


just like picket fences

by sooblushes



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Childhood Friends, Jealousy, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Kim Jongin, Roommates, omega biology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-12-26 02:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 37,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18274124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sooblushes/pseuds/sooblushes
Summary: It started, strangely enough, with a shirt.(Or that awkward moment when it takes a scheduled heat for Jongin to realize he's in love with his best friend.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> abo version of this [/r/relationships story](https://www.gaystarnews.com/article/straight-guy-worries-hes-homophobic-gay-roommate-ends-falling-love/) but because it's me...less angst, less gay panic, more sex (eventually).
> 
> initially inspired by kyungsoo's chest in [this shirt](https://imgur.com/LIiQU81). and [another photo](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CaJDxExUMAA9wFo.jpg) from that day!! also found it interesting that subversions of abo verse often rejects stereotypical omega traits and i had some thoughts on that...but abo isnt that serious so mostly this is inspired by kyungsoo's chest.
> 
> oh and about abo dynamics here! you can't smell if someone is an alpha or a beta or an omega. there are stereotypes, yes, but the only way to _truly_ know is to disclose it. scenting is also much more personal here.

It started, strangely enough, with a shirt.

A shirt, nearly threadbare through repeated wear and wash—probably more than was advised. Kyungsoo had scolded him a few times for his lack of care towards articles of clothing and his habit of letting piles of laundry grow in his room like a belt of volcanic activity. When the sight grew unbearable to even his eyes, Jongin would gather them up and throw them into the washer and dryer altogether; nice shirts with the old, whites mixed with the reds.

But at least he tried to be a good roommate. Knowing Kyungsoo’s hectic schedule, Jongin always remembers to bring his dirty laundry down with him too—though the pile much smaller, much more manageable than Jongin’s own, the unmistakable sign of someone who does his own laundry on a more regular basis. And because he’s not only a good roommate, but also the bestest friend ever, Jongin always makes sure to throw in some of that fancy fabric softener that Kyungsoo orders from Japan too.

(Take that, people who say alphas can’t do housework too)

Who knew that wasn’t enough to maintain the quality of clothing?

And so, here it is. A shirt, nearly threadbare through repeated wear and wash, and as black as everything else in Kyungsoo’s godforsaken closet. It’s satin, or some sort of silky material, Jongin isn’t sure—though he remembers thinking it must feel nice on skin when he had thrown it into the wash. Jongin never pays too much attention to the other man’s wardrobe, and most of it looks the same anyway—all black t-shirts and fitted sweatpants and warm, soft UNIQLO hoodies. 

Kyungsoo, who prefers practicality over frivolity, always the one to wear whatever he has in his closet until it’s impossible to get anymore use out of it anymore.

Jongin racks his brain a little harder. He remembers seeing his roommate wear it a number of times, one of the few _nice_ shirts that Kyungsoo owns. Maybe when he came to Jongin’s high school graduation? Or maybe at Yesuh’s—his ex-girlfriend, and a beta—birthday party a year ago.

Regardless, Jongin remembers the shirt being structured. With thick shoulder pads, because Kyungsoo must have bought this years and years ago when he used to feel self-conscious about his omegan build, all small and narrow, and it fell stiffly over his body to disguise the slight rounded curves of his hips and the dip in his waist. 

Now though—now, it’s all soft and much more worn, draping down and across Kyungsoo’s torso in a way that hides nothing. His shoulders are as narrow as Jongin knows they are when Kyungsoo’s shirtless. And that’s a sight he grew up to. They’re childhood friends, growing together since they were snot-nosed brats saddled with each other because they both had the luck to grow up as neighbours. So, he knows what the omega looks like naked, and it’s normal, it has always been fine—even with the way the shirt now tapers in at the waist before flaring out at the hips.

But what really catches Jongin’s attention though, what truly distracts him from the variety show he’s been watching (It’s Dangerous Beyond the Blankets), is the way the shirt looks on Kyungsoo’s chest. 

When the omega first walked into their shared living room, fretting over the cuffs of his shirt and dressed in his nice, but old, silky top, and a pair of dress pants that honestly were a little too oversized for him, Jongin had paid him no mind. They live together, they grew up together, he’s used to sharing a space with Kyungsoo. But then Kyungsoo had asked him if he could help him roll his shirt sleeves up—”They’re a little long, Jongin-ah”—and again, that was normal. Kyungsoo was short, most clothes didn’t come fitted for his t-rex arms. 

So Jongin heaved himself up from the couch, where he had moulded a little hole into the cushion over the past 3 years they’ve lived together, and bent his head lower to grab at Kyungsoo’s arm so he could roll his sleeve up. It was in this position that he noticed the way the shirt fit strangely over Kyungsoo’s chest. 

Usually flat (or at least from what Jongin remembers, and he normally doesn’t stare at his _childhood friend’s_ chest), Kyungsoo is now sporting two small mounds, a gentle swell under pretty fabric in mimicry of breasts, barely even an A-cup. In the cold chill in their room, because they’re broke college students who can’t afford their gas bills if they crank the heat up, the smaller boy’s nipples are peaked, rising up stiff under the silky fabric.

He doesn’t know why, but Jongin finds himself lingering on the sight. His eyes trace over the way the shirt falls tighter around the chest, the way Kyungsoo’s chest seems so soft, so...

He doesn’t know what it seems. 

(At the back of his mind, he suddenly recalls Biology 12 lessons about omega biology and the way omegas’ chests become plumper, more sensitive as they near their heat. Something about prolactin and hormones—but he’s a dancer, not a biologist.)

Kyungsoo’s voice, deep but not as deep as it used to be when he would pitch it lower to fight off against the annoying alphas that would harass him, brings him out of his thoughts. “Thanks, Jongin.” His friend smiles, patting Jongin goodnaturedly on his shoulder, before leaving to grab his wallets and keys. “I’ll be back later tonight.”

And then he leaves. 

—and so, this is how it starts. This is how Jongin begins noticing things about his childhood friend, his best friend, his roommate, _Do Kyungsoo_ , that he had never, ever noticed before.

(Later on, Jongin will realize that it started way before Kyungsoo showed up in that shirt. That somehow, somewhere along the line of their 17 years of friendship, Jongin began subconsciously seeking out the smaller boy, his head automatically turning whenever he _knew_ Kyungsoo would be tickled pink by something, though he always preferred it when it was him who made the omega laugh, just so he could catch a smile of that heart-shaped smile and chubby cheeks bunched up in pure joy.)

* * *

  
Jongin was 5 years old when they had first met. He still remembers the day clearly, how the sun shone clear and bright over their small, older apartment building, tucked in the suburbs near Seoul. A middle-aged couple used to live in the unit across from theirs, and they had moved away a few weeks ago because the wife had been transferred to a better position in Gwangju. His father, a beta just like his mom, had told him that a new family was moving that day. 

Instead of hiring any moving trucks, the Do family gathered their friends and family to help with transporting furnitures and other household knick knacks. He remembers peering over the window on his tippy-toes, too tall for little Jongin back then, and seeing cars and cars lining up and down their neighbourhood. Their street bustled with activity, storms of people carrying table legs and bed frames up four flight of stairs and into the tiny suite. His oldest sister had grumbled a little, worried that her boyfriend wouldn’t be able to find street parking to pick her up for her date.

It took a couple of hours before the noise began to die down, and by then Jongin had already peeled himself away from the window and busied himself with playing dress-up with his sister’s old favourite dolls. He startled when the doorbell suddenly rang, and hid behind the doorframe of the living room once his mother got up to open the door.

The door opened to reveal two women—a couple—only somewhat younger than his own parents. 

“Ah,” his mother said, warmly. “You must be the new family moving in!”

The taller woman nodded. She smiled back, her arm looped through her wife’s. “Yes, I’m Sohye. This is my wife, Do Eunsoo, and our two boys. Say hi to auntie, you two!” 

Two small figures shuffled into view, hidden previously by the door. They both had a similar hairstyle, surprisingly stylish and swept into a neat coif and held by gel. 

(Jongin later found out that Sohye is a hairstylist.)

The taller child had a squarish face, padded with baby fat and a toothy grin. Clinging tightly to his arm was a smaller boy with a round face and big, wide eyes that stared up in curiosity at Jongin’s mom.

Their other mom, the shorter one, gently encouraged the boys with a pat on their heads. “Go on, sweethearts.” Her voice was deeper than her wife’s. 

The taller boy waved, his hand flailing wildly in the air. “Hi, I am Seungsoo and I am 9!” he shouted. “And this is Kyungsoo, my baby brother! He’s six!”

Kyungsoo, the smaller boy, smiled. His two front teeth were missing. “Hi,” he said. His voice was quiet, and a little shy.

Jongin’s mom cooed as she greeted them back, introducing herself to the family. “I have two daughters and a son. My eldest daughter is out with her boyfriend, and my second with my husband, but my youngest is only a year younger than Kyungsoo!” She beckoned Jongin towards her from where he was hiding. 

Reluctantly, Jongin stepped out from behind the doorframe and padded towards the front door. He ran the last few steps towards his mother, clinging tightly to her long skirt as he hid from the strangers.

Jongin could hear his mom chuckle, the vibrations traveling through her body to his. “He’s a little shy, but he’s a sweet boy.”

Sohye laughed. “Aw, just like our Kyungsoo. He takes awhile to open up to strangers, but I’m sure he would get along just fine with Jongin!”

A little curious, Jongin slowly peeked his head out. The two women were looking fondly at him, and Seungsoo was glancing curiously around the inside of their house. His younger brother, the one who’s only a tiny bit taller than Jongin himself, was staring right at him. His eyes were bug-like, and fascinated, frightening the young alpha quite a bit. Quickly, he hid behind his mom again. 

They didn’t exchange a single word that day, what with Jongin being too easily frightened by the other boy and Kyungsoo being far too shy to initiate any contact. 

Their first interaction wouldn’t come until a few days later, when their parents forced them to walk to school together. Kyungsoo had pointed out a massive, fat worm lying on the sidewalk directly in Jongin’s path, which caused him to shriek in fear and hide in fear. Creepy crawlies were his worst nightmare, a real fear caused by years of taunting by his older sisters about how people eat worms and spiders and all kinds of gross things in their sleep. 

It wasn’t until Kyungsoo had bravely picked up the worm and set it back down in the soil and away from Jongin that Jongin warmed up to him. Anyone that could face disgusting creatures so calmly couldn’t be too bad. 

And the rest, as they say, is history. After that, Jongin and Kyungsoo became inseparable.

* * *

  
After Kyungsoo had left their apartment, Jongin firmly pushes the image of him in that shirt out of his mind. He feels weird thinking about it, like it was intrusive and wrong of him. 

The next morning, Jongin wakes up to a hand firmly shaking his shoulder. He groans, swatting the hand away as he shifted away from it. 

“Jongin.”

He ignores it, burrowing his face deeper into the pillow.

The voice comes again, low and steady. Insistent. “C’mon, Jongin. It’s time to wake up.”

“Go away,” he grumbles out. Petulantly, he pulls at his blankets until they’re covering his head, shielding him from the voice that’s disturbing his slumber. The blankets are instantly and unceremoniously ripped off of him, exposing his body to the cold air.

“Gah—”

A hand shakes at his shoulder again, before slipping down to cradle his jaw, soft and warm. “Jongin.” Through the sleepy fog of his mind, he registers the voice as Kyungsoo’s. His nostrils flare when he smells the omega’s familiar deep, earthy scent fill his room, mingling with his own. It’s comforting. “You have to get up or you’ll be late for class.”

He can’t help it, he leans into the warm touch. His eyes remain closed, and if he tries hard enough, he could fall back asleep with the steady lull of his roommate’s voice.

But then the hand shifts, and he feels Kyungsoo poking his abdomen. 

Jongin makes a small noise of displeasure, and curls up away from the prodding finger.

“Jongin, seriously. You need to wake up.” A tinge of impatience enters the voice, but Jongin just sighs in content. Did Kyungsoo always have such a comforting voice? Why did he ever stop reading him bedtime stories? That was the highlight of his life when he was nine. 

Silence. A rustle of clothing. Jongin almost falls back to sleep completely before Kyungsoo speaks up again. “Okay, I guess I have no choice...” 

Suddenly, a body, small and compact, lands heavily on top of him. Jongin jolts awake, his instincts causing him to flinch from the sudden impact, but he doesn’t react quick enough before Kyungsoo gets his fingers and digs them into Jongin’s ticklish sides. He howls, shrinking away, but the other boy is insistent as he tickles him.

“Kyungsoo, _stop_ , I’m awake! I’m awake!” Jongin twists his body away. For someone so tiny, Kyungsoo is heavy on top of him. 

His friend only shakes his head, smiling down at him with his toothy grin. His eyes are curved into crescents, and a little giggle escapes from him. “Why should I? You weren’t listening to me.” He tickles Jongin harder.

Jongin lets out a little laugh, before bucking Kyungsoo off of him. The omega falls off of him and onto the bed beside him with a soft thump, and before he can react, Jongin climbs over top of him and targets where he knows Kyungsoo is most sensitive—down his sides and under his armpit. 

“No!” Kyungsoo cries out, his face bunching up into a happy smile. “Stop it, haha, oh no—Jongin, no, you know I hate getting tickled!”

He grins devilishly, before sneaking his fingers underneath Kyungsoo’s shirt. He’s clearly ready to head out for his own class, wearing a soft black hoodie and a pair of black jeans. Jongin snakes his finger over Kyungsoo’s soft skin before digging into his sides. The omega lets out a shriek of laughter, his legs kicking up to block Jongin, but the alpha pins him down firmly.

“This is payback, Soo,” Jongin replies. He sneaks in a little pinch on his tummy—Kyungsoo was never really able to shed the small layer of fat on his tummy on his otherwise small frame—before resuming his tickle attack. “Say mercy!”

“Never,” Kyungsoo chokes out in between peals of laughter. He squirms underneath Jongin, laughing helplessly as Jongin pokes his sides. 

“Yeah?” Jongin smirks. “You sure about that?”

His friend lets out another giggle, sending a jolt of delight through Jongin. He’s normally so reserved in public, so much more quiet, it always brings a sense of joy when he realizes just how comfortable and open Kyungsoo is willing to be with him.

“Okay, okay,” Kyungsoo laughs. “Mercy, mercy, we’re both going to be late if we don’t stop.”

Taking pity on the smaller boy, Jongin pauses his movements and rests his hands on Kyungsoo’s waist. His head is thrown back in laughter, and Jongin takes in the happiness apparent on his face, the line of his neck, his scent gland. The tips of his ears are red, but he’s smiling brightly. His gummy grin lighting up his face, his cheeks all bunched up and round and chubby, just exactly like it did when he was 6 years old and saving Jongin from worms. His eyes are still curved in happy crescents, and he’s smiling fondly at Jongin. 

All of a sudden, Jongin feels aware of the warm, soft skin under his hands, the comforting scent of the omega that always reminds him of home, and his own heart rate starts beating erratically. He doesn’t know why he’s reacting this way. His face burns, and he hastily climbs off of the omega and the bed. Feigning a cough, he turns to rummage around in his closet for his outfit of the day. 

“You’re right,” he says, feeling strangely nervous. He busies himself with his messy closet, fighting to keep haphazardly folded clothing from falling off the shelves. “We should get ready for class.”

Behind him, he hears a shuffling noise as Kyungsoo presumably sits up on his bed. An image of him all rumpled and soft flashes through his mind, but it’s gone before he lets himself linger on it any longer. 

“You mean _you_ need to get ready. I’m good to go. Want me to wait for you?”

Still feeling a little out of sorts, Jongin shakes his head. “Nah, you go ahead. Don’t you have class with that prof that takes attendance only in the first 15 minutes of class?”

Kyungsoo sighs, as he climbs out of bed. “Yeah, _ugh_. You sure?”

“Yeah. I still gotta wash up—you go first.”

“Alright, you better hurry up then. Don’t have made me suffer through your tickling for no reason, Jongin,” Kyungsoo teases on his way out Jongin’s door. 

His face burns red-hot again at the reminder. “Um, yeah, whatever,” he sputters awkwardly. He thanks the heavens when he realizes Kyungsoo had already stepped out, and probably didn’t hear his awkward attempt of a recovery.

He doesn’t know what that was—and yesterday too—why he reacted so strongly just at seeing Kyungsoo. At seeing his closest and oldest friend. It makes him feel like he’s lost control of his body, and he doesn’t like it.

Not one bit.

* * *

  
_Sehun: gonna go study at the cafe, anyone wanna join_

_Baekhyun: hah! u? studying?_

_Jongin: lol_

_Chanyeol: lol_

_Sehun: hey i study sometimes_

_Sehun: this is one of those times_

_Baekhyun: LMAOOOOOOOOO GL_

_Sehun: stop being mean to me. i will report u._

_Sehun: my boyfriend will sue u_

_Junmyeon: i’m not suing anyone, sehun_

_Sehun: boo_

_Sehun: so is anyone going to keep me or company or not??_

_Jongin: lmao k i’ll join you_

_Sehun: this is why you’re my only real bro_

_Baekhyun: ew stop trying to sound like a straight man_

The bell jingles cheerily when Jongin opens the door to _Love Cherry Cafe_ , a warm blast of air hitting him as he walks in. He spots Sehun sitting in the cozy corner of the cafe, bundled up in an oversized sweater and a scarf. The beta always ran cooler than the rest. Leaning up against the table in conversation with Sehun is Jongdae, another beta in their friend group. He’s dressed in his work uniform, clearly on shift at the cafe when Sehun came in. 

They both look up when they hear Jongin nearby, greeting him as he pulls out the other chair and slides in. 

“Chanyeol and Baekhyun are joining us too,” Sehun says. In front of him, he has several notebooks laid out with his messy scrawling stretched over lined paper. His laptop is on the table, but it’s closed. The beta is enthusiastically digging into a cinnamon bun. 

“Why do you guys always come here,” Jongdae complains. With one swift motion, he swipes up Sehun’s plate and takes a huge bite out of the bun, ignoring the younger boy’s protests.

“You would be bored to death at work without us to bother you,” teases Jongin. He copies Jongdae and grabs at the plate before Sehun can take it back. He forks out only a small bite, unwillingly mindful of his diet for his upcoming recital.

“I would actually have a peaceful shift for once,” Jongdae says, but his tone is warm. 

The bell chimes a few metres away from them, and they’re greeted with a sudden gust of icy wind as the door opens. Both Chanyeol and Baekhyun step in, chatting animatedly as they enter the cafe. They’re noisy, as always, and Jongin inwardly grimaces when he sees some other patrons glare at the newcomers. 

“Aha!” Baekhyun says. The omega points an accusing finger at Sehun, who pauses mid-bite. “I knew you wouldn’t be studying! I was telling Chanyeol, watch, he’s probably just going to bother Jongdae and eat food.”

Sehun guiltily sets down the plate, wiping at his mouth with faux primness. “And what about it?”

The two begin squabbling at each other. Jongdae, in an attempt to shut them up, joins in, but only succeeds in increasing the volume of their conversation. At this point, Jongin is sure that either Jongdae will get in trouble, or their entire group will get kicked out for being a public nuisance.

Beside him, Chanyeol pulls up another chair and drops noisily into it, stretching his long legs out into a lazy sprawl. “Hey,” he says. “You actually planning to study?”

Jongin nods, finally pulling out his laptop from his backpack and setting it on the table. He turns it on, switching between his many tabs before he finds his readings for art history. “Well, I was going to try. But not sure how that’ll work with these idiots here,” he nods at his friends. Jongdae is now whining at maximum capacity. 

“Hah, good luck. I’ve only got a one hour break before my next class, I’m just going to chill.”

The cafe is located on the far end of campus, closer to where all the newer student residence buildings are. While Jongin tends to avoid on-campus food establishments because he inevitably runs into acquaintances from lectures, their group found themselves regularly visiting Love Cherry Cafe once Jongdae got hired there. It’s more convenient for the other four, who live in the dorms, than it is for Jongin or Kyungsoo, who would have to make a purposeful trip over here from where they rent their apartment. But on days when they have class, it’s not so bad. 

And speaking of which—”No Kyungsoo today?” Chanyeol asks as he shrugs off his duffle coat. 

“He’s at rehearsal,” says Jongin. “I think he’ll be busy all day today? His schedule this semester has been hell.”

Kyungsoo is part of the musical theatre club at their university, which is where he met Kim Junmyeon. Coincidentally, he was also the one who introduced Junmyeon to Sehun—he always had a soft spot for the younger beta after they took an Economics class together, of all things—and they began dating shortly after. 

Chanyeol makes a sympathetic noise. After Jongin, Chanyeol is probably Kyungsoo’s closest friend, and he knows just how busy the other man has become. Where they would usually spend a lot of studio time together, just jamming and making songs, they haven’t been able to have any sessions yet this year. 

“Poor boy,” Chanyeol says. “I miss him and his big head.”

“Who? Kyungsoo?” Baekhyun chimes in suddenly. Chanyeol nods. “His head isn’t that big. It’s just that his body is small.”

Jongdae laughs. The sound of it rings through the cafe, and Jongin notices a student look up from their book to glare at them. “What? I have literally never noticed the size of his head before.”

“That’s because you’re tiny too,” Sehun says. 

Jongdae slaps his arm in response, but he ignores it. “That doesn’t even make sense, what the hell—”

“Anyway,” Sehun interrupts. “Back to the more important topic about our beloved Kyungsoo. He’s way too busy lately, does he even have time to unwind?” The last question is directed at Jongin.

Jongin reflects on his own latest interactions with Kyungsoo. He sees him the most in the morning, usually when he accidentally sleeps in and Kyungsoo wakes him up. If he’s lucky, he catches him in the evening for dinner, but he’s been coming home later and later. The night before was an anomaly, where he was home before it was dark out—but then he went back out and came home late, and he never did mention to Jongin where he had gone. But it must have been another work meeting or a meeting with an agent, if he was dressed so nicely. 

Beyond that, though, he’s always off to go somewhere--either for school, work, or for his musical theatre endeavours—and coming home only to catch the barest minimum of sleep. He’s always on the move, and Jongin doesn’t think he’s seen him do something for _fun_ in over a month now.

Sehun coughs impatiently as Jongin mulls it over, and in retaliation, Jongin steals the last remaining bite of his bun. “No,” he says, slowly. “I don’t see him as much either.”

“This is it,” Sehun replies. “We have to do something about this. We have to get him laid.” He nods sagely to himself, ignoring the aghast look that Jongin sends him.

“Dude!” Jongdae says, smacking Sehun on the arm. “That’s so weird, don’t say that!”

“What? Seriously, when was the last time he even...” the youngest trails off, stealing a glance at Baekhyun. The omega stills, an uncharacteristically awkward expression taking place on his face.

As everyone in their friend group knows, Kyungsoo has never been the type for flings or hook-ups. Not because he’s a prude, but because of his inherent distrust in other men and how they potentially behave towards other omegas. Jongin understands his qualms, as well as he can as an alpha, as someone who’s not marginalized on the basis of his Secondary. But that just means that if Kyungsoo’s not in a relationship, he’s not having sex with _anyone_.

—Which is good, or well, it’s fine. It’s whatever. Jongin has never thought about it anyway. It has never been his business to occupy his mind with who Kyungsoo is having sex with or when. Thinking about it just leaves a strange pit in his stomach, a choking feeling that he chalks up to the discomfort of invading his childhood friend’s privacy. 

But that means that the last time Kyungsoo had...released any pent up energy _that_ way was when he was still dating Baekhyun. They hadn’t been together too long, just shy of six months, and they broke up two years ago now. 

For Jongin, it was a strange period in his friendship with the two omegas. He had always gotten along well with Baekhyun, ever since Chanyeol introduced him to the group during their first year of university. They all lived on the same floor in the first year dorms. Baekhyun and Kyungsoo had gotten along, a fact that made Jongin feel a little uneasy at first, a little insecure whenever he heard his longtime friend mention how well he communicated with Baekhyun. 

But he got over that.

After they started dating in their second year of university, though, Jongin felt like he never knew where he fit into the equation of their friendship. Whether it was weird or awkward if he wanted to hang out with Kyungsoo when he was at the dining hall with Baekhyun, if he was an intrusion. 

In the end, Kyungsoo had told him in private that there were some things that he wanted in relationships that he wouldn’t be able to get from Baekhyun. His face was apologetic, and he had looked truly crushed. 

When they broke up, Jongin’s worries turned to whether or not it would cause a rift in their friend group. And it was awkward at first, but they had gone back to normal in no time; bantering, teasing each other silly, Kyungsoo grabbing the back of Baekhyun’s neck if he was being too loud.

That didn’t mean their break up didn’t require healing though, or that there weren’t hurt feelings, and some serious conversations to work through their friendship. And sometimes, those feelings linger when prodded, even if neither of them were in love with each other anymore. 

The table lapses into silence before Baekhyun laughs, a genuine one, that dispels the awkwardness lingering in the air after Sehun’s brash statement. “Okay, I think none of us need to think any longer on this.”

Jongin agrees. 

Sehun shrugs, a little apologetically. “Either way, my point still stands. We need him to take a break.”

* * *

  
When they were still children, Jongin used to force Kyungsoo to play games with him where one of them would be the knightly, honourable prince swooping in to save the beloved nation’s princess from the scary, horrible evil villain. This game, to Jongin, was essentially an intangible piece of heritage—passed on down to him from his own sisters, who often forced him to play the princess. 

(In retrospect, the designated roles were unnecessarily archaic, especially in a society that no longer enforced heterosexual couplings.)

He never minded being a princess because he loved to play dress up, but he hated the inactivity that came with the role. Playing the princess meant he would have to sit and hide all game, and for a young boy who had more than enough energy to expend even after his ballet lessons, it was too difficult a task. 

So when he was finally able to rope both Kyungsoo and Seungsoo into playing the game with him, he took the chance to declare himself either the prince or the villain—either one—and the remaining roles would be left up to the Do brothers. 

_”Ew, there’s no way I’m going to play anything but the villain. I don’t want to save or be saved by my stinky brother!” Seungsoo protested each time._

_“I’m not stinky!” Kyungsoo would then whine, like clockwork, his little face scrunching up into a pout as he stamped his feet._

_(Jongin agreed. Kyungsoo was anything but stinky. He always smelled like home, his warm scent enveloping him like a hug once they became close enough friends that Kyungsoo would let Jongin scent him.)_

And so Kyungsoo was always the princess, which he was more than happy to play out. Some things never change, and for Kyungsoo, it’s his desire to be: a) lazy and free of sweat. He would rather not exert more physical energy than necessary; b) pampered and spoiled, even if he would never outwardly express it beyond a sad little pout when he wasn’t given the last piece of cake. 

(Though he always refused to dress up in pretty dresses and petticoats that Jongin inherited from his older sisters during their games, and still owns somewhere in the back of the closet in his family’s home. He said it made him sweaty and there were too many confusing layers to put on. Jongin always thought this was a shame, because Kyungsoo suited pretty ribbons _so_ well.)

This game they played, long left behind in their early childhood days, set the foundation on how Kyungsoo and Jongin got along with each other.

No, Kyungsoo was not his princess, nor was he passive. He’s an omega male, which Jongin has been aware of since they were young, and Jongin may be an alpha, but he would punch Jongin if he ever demeaned him on the basis of their Secondary. 

But for the longest time, this was how they worked: Kyungsoo would often give into Jongin’s demands, his whims, protecting him and humouring him in equal measures—but only if he was equally coddled and spoiled in return. He loved being showered in affection and praise, and would be the first to cling to Jongin’s arms or to hug him when he was feeling needy. This was not necessarily illustrative nor indicative of his omega status—it didn’t matter either way.

This was just Kyungsoo.

Something changed, though. Somewhere in between the painful growing years of middle school and high school, Kyungsoo began to change. It wasn’t something Jongin picked up on at first, or maybe he had chalked it up to them growing older, more mature, and out of old habits.

He does know that it was inscrutable at first. Like Jongin, Kyungsoo is quite shy. Much more reserved, reticent in opening up to people upon first meeting them. But that Kyungsoo was no longer familiar to Jongin, who had broken through those barriers long, long ago when they had first met. 

Around Jongin, Kyungsoo had always been a little silly, sometimes even a bit eccentric when he got too excited. When he was particularly bored, he would start making weird noises with his mouth. If Jongin was being too obtuse, he wouldn’t hesitate to badger him a bit, tease him and snark at him until Jongin resorted to tickling the omega in retaliation. Kyungsoo wandered around with his head lost in the clouds sometimes, and was so earnest that it was almost to a fault.

(One time, Jongin gave Kyungsoo a friendship necklace—two small vials of pink sand from the beach they adventured to when they were 12, strung up on a black cord; one for himself, one for the other. He joked around that he made it with his own blood and sweat, infused into the sand, which gave it its rosy colour. Kyungsoo’s eyes had grown round and wide, and his mouth dropped open in shock. “Jonginnie, wow, really? That must have hurt!”

Jongin felt a little bit bad when he had to explain that he was just joking.)

The Kyungsoo he knew was also bubbly behind closed doors, the type to be excited when the food Aunt Eunsoo made tasted particularly good, or when the show he was watching had a tense climatic turn. He didn’t hold back on his emotions with Jongin, and they shared their childhood together, just _feeling_.

So when Kyungsoo began to turn inward, Jongin had thought that maybe it was a thing that came with age. His own parents were quiet and calm—perhaps it’s the natural path for all adults. He stopped leaning on Jongin’s shoulder when they watched television together, stopped holding his hand when they walked to school, stopped telling Jongin about his day, how his classes went, how Chanyeol and Jongdae got in trouble for being disruptive in class _again_ by their Korean History teacher.

And eventually, it felt as if Kyungsoo stopped wanting to be around Jongin, too. He flinched away from his touch, avoided conversations with him when they crossed paths in the hallway. 

Then, he started dressing differently. His pants became baggier, too long for his short legs. His shirts were two sizes too big, and then they were padded around the shoulders. The shoes he wore had insoles in them, lifting his height up at least three inches. And what puzzled Jongin the most—he started talking differently, with purposefully mature inflections that added age to his tone. His voice was sombre, pitched deeper than it usually was. It was almost as if he was afraid to express any emotions. 

(Which was weird to Jongin. Kyungsoo had a naturally low, soothing tone. Why would he need to change that?)

At first, Jongin gave Kyungsoo his space, wanting to respect his privacy. They were best friends, yes, but he knew there were still boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed between the closest of friends. But as his behaviour persisted, and he became quieter and quieter—even around Chanyeol, who always incited the most explosive emotions from Kyungsoo—Jongin knew something was up. Something was wrong.

He tried talking to the older boy. Letting him know that Jongin was there for him, if there was anything he wanted to share. When Kyungsoo continued to brush him off, denials falling easily from his lips, Jongin began to push a little harder.

“Kyungsoo,” he had said. Jongin was standing in the doorway to Kyungsoo’s bedroom, his path into the room blocked by the omega himself. It was so unlike them, when usually Jongin was given an all-access pass into the room. He didn’t remember a time when he wasn’t allowed in, not until now.

The omega in question had his eyes trained somewhere on Jongin’s shoulder, shirking eye contact. His shoulders were hunched, pulled up close to his ears. 

He didn’t answer.

Worry striked through Jongin’s heart, and he reached a hand out—he wasn’t sure to do what, whether to clasp onto Kyungsoo’s hand or to shake his shoulders, but it didn’t matter. Kyungsoo flinched away from his hand, taking a step back further into the room. 

A few seconds passed. It was silent, unnaturally so. “Kyungsoo,” Jongin tried again, slowly this time. He tried to modulate his voice, somehow afraid that if he let his own anxieties seep through, it would scare Kyungsoo away even more than he already was. “Kyungsoo, I’m worried.”

At last, the other boy reacted. He visibly tensed, forcing his shoulders back as he jutted his chin out at Jongin. “I’m fine, Jongin. You have nothing to worry about, I told you this before.” 

“You’re acting differently. We haven’t hung out in ages and you don’t even talk to me, or Chanyeol or Jongdae either. This doesn’t seem like ‘fine’ to me!”

Kyungsoo steeled his voice—the strange, deeper one that sounded unnatural to Jongin. “I’ve been busy.”

“There’s being busy and there’s—there’s _this_ ,” Jongin replied. He ran a hand through his hair, agitated. It felt like he was talking to a brick wall. “This isn’t like you at all.”

Something flashed through Kyungsoo’s eyes; anger, but not quite. An unnameable emotion that was bruising, hurt, and _vulnerable_. “Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” Kyungsoo said. 

Despite himself, Jongin could feel himself getting frustrated. Kyungsoo could be stubborn at times, but never like this. Never so unreasonably. “Seriously, Kyungsoo. What’s going on with you? I’m worried _as your friend_. Is something wrong?”

He reached again toward his friend, wanting to comfort him somehow, or maybe himself. But then Kyungsoo exploded, shoving Jongin away from him. He was bristling, his fists clenched, eyes blazing. “Just leave me alone and stop treating me like a fucking _omega_ who needs an alpha to save him! I’m not your useless little princess, okay?”

Jongin jolted back, Kyungsoo’s outburst shocking him. He had never, ever once thought of Kyungsoo as a damsel in distress because of his Secondary. 

As an alpha, he knew that he inherently possessed a degree of privilege in a society that conflated masculinity and superiority with his designation. Omegas were often treated unfairly, often demeaned as being _lesser_ somehow. Even with so many years passing, with countless global movements pushing for omega rights and equity for all Secondary genders, the hatred against perceived femininity persisted and tainted the eyes of a society who valued alpha traits above all else. 

Of course, much of these reflections came later for Jongin, too, after they both started attending university and found the space to learn about gender rights—both Primary and Secondary. The Jongin here, the one facing down Kyungsoo in his family’s cozy old apartment, was still a teenager who didn’t understand the intrinsic shame that came from being an omega. He was a boy with a warm heart, with a great family to teach him to be good to others, but he couldn’t understand the hurt that Kyungsoo was feeling.

What he did understand, though, was the way Kyungsoo suddenly seemed to shrink. Even under all that baggy clothing, the padded shoulders, his friend appeared smaller than ever. His shoulders were hunched, eyes suddenly downcast. His usually comforting earthy scent became acrid, sour to Jongin’s nose. The other boy looked bogged down, weighed by an unknown demon to Jongin. Above all else, he looked...sad.

And Jongin’s heart _broke_.

“Kyungsoo,” he said, his voice dropping down to a hushed whisper. “You...you know I wouldn’t...”

The other boy deflated. Kyungsoo sighed, pushing his glasses higher on his nose bridge. “Not on purpose, I know you wouldn’t. But...” He trailed off, scratching at his eyebrow as he visibly collected his words. “But you’re an alpha after all. How can you know how this feels?”

“Did I do anything? I don’t want to—you’re my best friend, Kyungsoo. I don’t want to be something that hurts you.” Jongin said. He was earnest, serious. If there was some alpha stereotype about being brutish and arrogant that he was living up to, he wanted to know and he wanted to change that. 

Kyungsoo sighed again. He took a minute step closer to Jongin, and reached a small hand out, taking Jongin’s in his with a small, wry smile. It was the first time in weeks that Kyungsoo had touched him. He missed it. 

“You’re a good friend, Jongin. It’s not you, not really.” He hesitated then, thumb stroking small, smoothing circles into Jongin’s skin. “It’s some other knotheads at school.”

A sliver of worry embedded itself in Jongin’s heart again. “Did...did something happen?”

Silence. 

“Kyungsoo?”

“I-I’m okay, I can handle it. Just some annoying assholes at school have been bothering me lately.”

With some reluctance, Kyungsoo confessed about a couple of alphas in his grade that had taken up the habit of cornering him in between classes—where he was away from his friends, from _Jongin_ —and harassing him. 

Even though Kyungsoo had never disclosed his Secondary beyond his closest friends, he was always built small, and he was _cute_ with his round cheeks and rounder eyes. They saw the way Kyungsoo would hold Jongin’s hand or would get swept into a hug by Chanyeol, and came to their own conclusions about his gender. They would grab onto him, with just enough force that Kyungsoo had difficulties breaking away, and say awful, awful things about how omegas belong at the bottom of the pack, and what they do to omegas like him. 

This would happen several times a week.

“It would just be easier if I wasn’t an omega,” Kyungsoo said. “That’s why...that’s why I want to show that I’m not like _those_ omega. I’m not weak.”

Jongin’s heart broke as he listened his friend. There was a hint of contempt in his voice as he talked about his own Secondary, a note of defeat that made Jongin want to gather him up in his arms and to tell him that he was perfect the way he is, that he’s not worth less because of his Secondary.

And just as much, he wanted to find those alphas, to rip them to pieces. Grab them, shake them, yell in their faces about how wonderful Kyungsoo was, how he was miles and miles above them, and how could they even _dare_ to approach him, to touch him—

—but Kyungsoo would hate that. So he didn’t. 

Instead, he listened. He comforted Kyungsoo where he could, assured him that he was perfect exactly the way he was, that he never needed to change. He stood by his side, in only the best ways that Jongin knew he could do.

All throughout high school, Jongin watched as Kyungsoo armed himself with protective layers against omega stereotyping. He tried his best to become as “un-omega” as possible. “I don’t want people to think I’m omega-like,” he said. 

It wasn’t until Kyungsoo moved out—with Jongin following close on his heels—to university in the big city that Kyungsoo began to meet more omegas. Jongin knew Baekhyun played a big role in that, the other omega having been involved with Secondary activism for quite some time. 

It took awhile, but Kyungsoo become more comfortable with himself and his Secondary once more. That it was okay to be soft and gentle, and he wasn’t any lesser because he wanted to be kind and because he was also an omega. That the idea of “breaking stereotypes” was never for his own benefit, that it didn’t make him happier, it wasn’t anything more than living up to the preconceived values of alpha superiority created by a violent society against omegas.

He smiled more, worried less about meeting new people. Kyungsoo grew to like himself more. Jongin continued loving him.

As a friend. 

A best friend.

* * *

  
A haze of images flash through Jongin’s mind, shapes of people, swathes of pale skin. The feeling of plush lips on his, a hand combing through his hair, a gentle kiss to his scent gland. His hand moves slowly, as if through water, before landing on something warm and soft. And squishy? But then a moan, nearly indistinguishable beyond the roaring in his ears, distracts him. A glowing outline blurs the edges and corners of the silhouettes, making them indiscernible to him. He reaches out, feeling desperate to hear that sound again, and—

_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._

The sound of his alarm rips Jongin out from his sleep, away from his dream, and he barely has a moment to feel disappointed before his body involuntarily jolts awake so violently, that he finds himself pitching over the edge of the bed and crashing hard onto the floor.

“Fuck,” he groans, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He lies there for a few more moments, unwilling to move. His dream comes back to him in waves, the sensation of skin on skin, lips on lips. Who was he dreaming about? The answer doesn’t come to him, and he shrugs it off. Another nameless face, most likely. 

Jongin forces himself off the floor and quickly heads for the washroom to brush his teeth. Dance practice is in half an hour, and he curses whoever thought it was a good idea to hold practices on the weekend. 

In their small apartment, Jongin has to pass through the kitchen in order to reach the only washroom in their flat. He shivers as he pads through the short hallway, his skin pebbling in the cold. One step into their kitchen has him wincing, the tiles feeling like ice underneath his bare feet.

“Jongin?” Kyungsoo’s soft voice comes from behind him. 

He turns around, and squints at the blurry figure of his roommate sitting at the kitchen table. His glasses are still somewhere in his bedroom, but he thinks he makes out a mug set out in front of Kyungsoo. Probably coffee. “Oh, hey, you’re up early!” 

“Um—uh, y-yeah,” Kyungsoo stutters out. His hand is paused in the air, as if interrupted by Jongin’s entrance.

Jongin tilts his head to the side. That’s weird. Why is Kyungsoo acting so jumpy? “You okay?”

The vague blob-like shape of Kyungsoo startles a little. “Yeah!” his voice breaks a little on the syllable, and he clears his throat. “I mean—yes. Um, your shirt—I mean. What I mean to say is, a-aren’t you cold?”

Frowning, he looks down at himself. He’s shirtless, nipples pebbled in the cold and dark line of hair trailing down into his flannel pyjama pants.. He scratches at his abs a little in thought, and hears Kyungsoo setting his mug down on the table with a loud thud. “A little,” he says with a shrug. “I’m just going to quickly get ready and get my contacts in first though.”

“Oh,” says Kyungsoo. His voice still sounds a little weird, but Jongin chalks it up him probably having not been awake for long yet. “Dance practice today?”

“Yeah, _ugh_ ,” he says, with great feeling. “Wish I could have slept in today.”

He hears Kyungsoo hum a little in response, his figure still blurry from their distance. “You have stuff going on today too?” Jongin asks. 

“Mm. I have an appointment, and then I’m meeting up with a classmate for a group project later.”

“That sucks,” Jongin says sympathetically. He knows how much Kyungsoo hates group projects. “For which class?”

“Korean literature. We have a presentation on some historical comedy piece set during the Joseon Dynasty,” Kyungsoo replies. Jongin thinks he sees Kyungsoo shrug, his narrow shoulders moving up and down, movement too blurry to tell. “It wasn’t that good, but the person I’m working with is funny and he’s been holding his own weight so far.”

“Sounds like a long day.” He scratches at his face, the rasp of his stubble reminding him that he needs to shave. “Do you think you’ll have any free time later? I don’t know if you saw the group chat, but we’re going to Minseok’s place today.”

“Oh, no, I haven’t had time to check the chat. When are you heading over?”

“Maybe around 7? We’ll be there for awhile though, you should come if you can,” says Jongin. 

The other boy stands up, walking over to the sink to wash his mug, and Kyungsoo has to speak a little louder over the sound of water. “I’ll try my best. I really miss everyone.”

There’s a note of sadness in his voice, just enough that has Jongin itching to get closer to Kyungsoo and hug him. He imagines pacing up to him, wrapping his arms around his back. How perfectly Kyungsoo would fit in his arms, how he would be the perfect height for him to rest his chin on. The way the tip of his ears would turn red...

Jongin clears his throat. “We miss you. Sehun’s been acting out more than usual without you to reign him in.”

At that, Kyungsoo laughs. “Aw, he’ll survive. Really though, I’m sorry my schedule has been horrible lately. I should have some free time coming up soon.” He shuts off the water, and turns to face Jongin again. “We should hang out as soon as we have more time. Just the two of us.” 

“Yeah,” Jongin says. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “That sounds perfect.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” There’s an earnestness in Kyungsoo’s voice that makes Jongin want to pause, rewind, and bask in it. “But you should probably get ready, Jonginnie. You only have ten minutes to get ready for practice.”

Fuck. He rushes over to the washroom, calling out over his shoulder to a laughing Kyungsoo. “Shit—thanks, Soo. Let me know if you can make it tonight!” Behind him, he hears the omega agree.

As Jongin completes his morning routine, he replays his conversation with Kyungsoo in his mind. It’s yet another day where their interactions are limited to the few passing, precious minutes as they move from one place to another. 

But as always, he clings to these, relishing in the warmth it offers to start his day.

* * *

  
By the time he reaches Minseok’s apartment, the sun has long set. In one hand, he’s carrying the remnants of his bubble tea from his dinner out with Yixing, his closest friend and another member on the dance team. Usually, he joins them and their movie nights, but he might be the only other person in their friend group with a schedule that was even worse than Kyungsoo’s. 

The condensation from the slush making the plastic cup slippery in his hands, and it takes him a few moments before he’s able to maneuver his free hand to unzip the bag, take out his phone, and to text the group chat to let them know he’s there. The buzzer to Minseok’s place no longer works, a fact that vexes him to no end with each passing day that his landlord doesn’t get it fixed.

_Junmyeon: I’m coming down to get you  
Jongin: ok thx _

Jongin doesn’t have to wait much longer for Junmyeon to open the door to the lobby and usher him in. The other boy is dressed nicely, in an expensive cashmere sweater and neatly pressed pants. 

“Had a date with Sehun?” Jongin asks.

The other man blushes, but nods. “He took me to a nice restaurant.”

“With whose money?” Jongin teases. They’re all broke college students; except Minseok, who’s the only one graduated of all of them and with a permanent, full-time position, and Junmyeon, who comes from a wealthy family. 

Junmyeon just punches him in the arm in response. 

Minseok’s apartment is on the 7th floor, and it looks the same as it always did—warm, cozy, and incredibly neat. As the only one of them who lives alone and has the biggest apartment, they tend to congregate there during their monthly movie and games night.

Shucking off his shoes, Jongin lines them up as neatly as possible next to the row of footwear near the entry door, and shuffles into a pair of guest slippers that Minseok leaves in a basket for that purpose. He can hear yelling coming from the living room, and when he comes into the view of the rest, he can see it’s Baekhyun screaming over Chanyeol’s shoulder as the taller boy plays Overwatch on Minseok’s laptop.

On the couch is Sehun, slumped over and concentrated on the phone in his hand. He looks up when Jongin arrives, greeting him before opening his arms wide for Junmyeon to flop into. Sehun presses a kiss to the tip of Junmyeon’s ear before going back to his phone.

“Where’s Jongdae and Minseok?” Jongin asks the couple. Chanyeol and Baekhyun are clearly too absorbed in the game to acknowledge him right now.

Sehun shrugs, jostling Junmyeon who frowns. “I think in the kitchen? You didn’t see them coming in?”

Jongin shakes his head. “I heard that one—” Jongin nods towards Baekhyun “—screaming, so I beelined here.”

“Hey, you would be screaming too if you could see how badly Chanyeol is playing right no—get on the point, _get on the point_!” Baekhyun yells, even louder than before. 

“Shut up, you’re ruining my concentration!” Chanyeol retorts, eyebrows furrowing before he throws his hands up and slumps back in his chair, ripping the headset off. “Fuck, we lost.”

Immediately, the two start arguing with each other. Jongin shakes his head, taking a sip of his melted bubble tea slush. He sits on the couch, landing heavily on Sehun’s sprawled out long legs and ignores the whine coming from the beta.

He catches a sudden whiff of something delicious, and Jongdae and Minseok enter not long after. In Jongdae’s arms is a massive platter of nachos, slathered in gooey, cheesy _goodness_. Minseok is carrying the various dips, along with a six-pack of beer.

“Oh hey, Jongin, sorry I couldn’t come get you earlier. Jongdae and I were prepping some snacks in the kitchen,” says Minseok. The eldest comes over and offers a beer to Jongin, who shakes his head, gesturing at his unfinished bubble tea. 

Baekhyun gets up to help Jongdae clear off the small coffee table, stacking some of the magazines on the floor. “Jongdae, Chanyeol _lost_ ,” he says dramatically.

“Again? You suck,” Jongdae says, and Chanyeol throws his arms up in faux outrage.

“No one cares about me in this family!” the taller man sulks. 

Jongin’s phone vibrates in his pocket, and he hands the bubble tea off to Sehun to pick up his phone. It’s a text from Kyungsoo.

_Kyungsoo 💕: We finished our meeting early...is everyone there? I can head over now if it’s not too late_

_Jongin: just got here. come through!!!_

_Jongin: if u get here quick enough i can give u my leftover bubble tea : D_

_Kyungsoo 💕: Then I better hurry over, huh :-P_

“What are you smiling at?” Sehun asks, poking his foot into Jongin’s butt.

He swats at the beta’s leg. “Ow, leave my butt alone. And nothing. Just Kyungsoo saying he can make it tonight.”

His friends cheer, a little dramatically at the news. The argument between Jongdae, Chanyeol, and Baekhyun quickly forgotten as they instead move onto discussing how long it’s been since they had time to properly hang out with Kyungsoo.

Sehun snorts, but he complies, shifting his legs away from Jongin. “What butt, flat ass?” But then he smiles, a little knowing smile that unnerves Jongin a little. “Anyway. Oh, so that’s why you’re smiling.”

“What’s that look for?” Jongin asks, suspicion threading through his words. 

“Nothing,” says Sehun, but the mischievous look on his face remains. “Just glad that Kyungsoo can finally join us.”

Baekhyun lets out a whoop of happiness as he dives onto the couch, landing on top of Junmyeon and Sehun. He wraps his arms around them both, ignoring their muffled protests. “We just need Yixing too, and then we’d be complete again.”

It takes another half an hour before Kyungsoo arrives. The smaller man stumbles in from the cold, wrapped cozily in a big, blanket scarf and a toque on his head. His cheeks are ruddy, and the tip of his nose is a little bit pink. Jongin wants to press a hand to his face—to help warm him up as a good friend would do, of course.

The room erupts in noisy greetings, and before giving him a chance to settle down, Chanyeol immediately hugs Kyungsoo, lifting him straight off the ground. “I missed you!”

Kyungsoo breaks into his fond smile, the one where he quirks up one side of his lips, and pats Chanyeol on the head. “Put me down, you big lug.” As soon as Chanyeol sets him back on the ground, Baekhyun is there to wrap his own arms around the smaller omega.

As happy as Jongin is to see Kyungsoo, his stomach suddenly feels a little weird. The bubble tea must not be settling well, he thinks, and he stares down at his phone, pretending to be occupied by a text. 

He feels a small hand shoving at his shoulder, and he looks up. His roommate is smiling at him, his toque all askew from the rough handling from both Chanyeol and Baekhyun. “Hey,” he says. His voice is soft, with the kind of gentleness that Jongin knows he reserves for him.

“Hi,” Jongin replies, a little stupidly. 

There’s something enrapturing about him, the way he looks all soft and bundled up. His eyes trace over Kyungsoo’s wind-mussed hair, his bangs falling over his forehead in a way that most likely annoys the omega. His glasses have smudges on them from where Kyungsoo pushes them up. Jongin finds himself surprised by how soft and moisturized Kyungsoo’s lips look—for himself, his always become inescapably chapped in the frigid, winter air.

“...Aren’t you going to make room for me on the couch?” Kyungsoo asks. 

Sehun kicks at Jongin again, aiming for his thigh this time. “No, he’s struck stupid right now.” Kyungsoo tilts his head in confusion, eyes widening at Sehun in a silent ask. “Nevermind. Come sit with me instead, Kyungsoo.”

To Jongin’s dismay, the omega happily bounds over to Sehun’s side of the couch, pushing Junmyeon off of Sehun without hesitation. He ignores Junmyeon’s sharp _”hey!”_ and settles into Sehun’s side. The tall beta immediately wraps his arms around Kyungsoo. 

“Looks like we both got ditched,” Junmyeon says to Jongin sadly. 

“Have we decided what movie we want to watch already?” Kyungsoo asks. He finally takes off his outer layers, and folds them into a neat pile on his lap with his hat on top. There’s a few wayward strands of hair sticking up on his head, and Jongin reaches past Junmyeon a little awkwardly to smooth them down. Kyungsoo rewards him with a sweet smile.

“Yeah, it’s some manhwa adaptation that Chanyeol wanted to watch. You okay with that?” Jongdae says through a mouthful of nachos. Kyungsoo nods.

“There’s beer in the fridge if you want some, Soo,” Minseok says from where he’s leaning on Jongdae’s shoulder on the floor in front of the couch. 

“Oh, that sounds nice right now.” Kyungsoo stands up again and heads for the kitchen. In his absence, Junmyeon immediately scrambles back to Sehun’s side. The younger boy chuckles.

When Kyungsoo comes back again, he automatically fills the now unoccupied cushion to Jongin’s left, settling down comfortably next to him. As if by habit, Kyungsoo rests his hand high up on Jongin’s thigh as he sits down before settling it back in his own lap. It leaves an imprint, warm through Jongin’s jeans, for the rest of the night.

Halfway through the movie, Jongin watches out of the corner of his eye as Kyungsoo’s head droops, nodding once or twice before he shakes himself awake again. His eyes look increasingly bleary, and he rubs at his eyes in an attempt to stay awake.

It’s kind of cute, Jongin thinks. Like a little otter scrubbing its face. 

It’s not long until Kyungsoo falls asleep entirely, his head landing on Jongin’s shoulder as he stops resisting the draw of rest. His soft, deepened breathing is a soothing rhythm to Jongin’s ears. 

He stays silent, enjoying the warmth of Kyungsoo’s body against his, even as the rest of their friends run a constant stream of commentary throughout the film. Even long after his shoulder becomes numb, body aching from holding itself so stiffly in case he accidentally jostles Kyungsoo awake, Jongin finds himself basking in his deep, earthy scent filling up Jongin’s senses like a familiar blanket from home.

* * *

  
“Kyungsoo,” Jongin whispers, shaking his shoulder. “We’re home.”

The taxi driver looks at them in contempt through the rearview mirror as he impatiently waits for them to get out of his cab. “12,740₩,” he says, tapping on the metre. 

Scrambling for his wallet, Jongin quickly passes him the correct amount before turning his attention back to Kyungsoo and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that the older boy is awake, even if only partly. His eyes are half-lidded and he’s pouting, his plump lower lip jutting out in confusion.

“We’re home now,” Jongin repeats. “C’mon, let’s go in.”

Kyungsoo makes a soft questioning noise, his eyes sliding shut again. “M’sleepy, Jongin.”

“I know, I know. Let’s go in and you can sleep right away.”

The omega eyes blink open, and he turns looks at Jongin through his eyelashes. “Help me?” His doe eyes take on a pleading look, even more effective than normal with his childish pout. Kyungsoo extends his arms towards Jongin, and waits.

“You want me to carry you up?” Jongin asks, a little disbelieving.

Kyungsoo nods once, before deciding that lifting his head up was too much work. He drops back down against the backseat, his chubby cheeks squishing against the leather. 

“I have other passengers I need to pick up,” the driver reminds them brusquely. 

Not wanting to risk the ire of the driver even more, Jongin hurriedly steps out of the cab before reaching back in to sweep his arms underneath Kyungsoo’s, who automatically intertwines his arms around Jongin’s neck. With a groan, he lifts and pulls him out, staggering a little under his weight. His back protests from the strain, but he ignores it as Kyungsoo wraps his legs around Jongin’s waist and clings like a little koala bear.

“Ugh, you’re heavier than you look,” Jongin complains. He thanks the driver, who speeds off immediately without another word, and starts climbing the stairs towards their apartment. Already falling back asleep, Kyungsoo only makes a happy noise in response and hooks his chin over Jongin’s shoulder. 

By the time they’ve made it to their door, Jongin is panting and sweating. Kyungsoo’s no help—he can hear the omega softly snoring away in his ear, completely dead weight at the moment. He thanks the heavens that they have a key-card system instead of having to fumble with a heavy set of keys, and he swiftly digs the card out of his pocket and taps against the reader. 

He makes it to Kyungsoo’s bedroom with minimal difficulties navigating through the dark apartment, but he accidentally drops the older boy heavily onto his bed, his arms unable to sustain the weight any longer. Jongin sits on the edge of the mattress, trying to catch his breath through panting gasps. 

“That was legitimately a work out, Kyungsoo,” he chides, but Kyungsoo just mumbles something in his sleep and snuffles closer to Jongin. 

It feels like the first time in ages where he’s actually been able to spend any real time with Kyungsoo, and Jongin feels a little reluctant to leave his roommate’s side when he’s in a rare state of being so sleep-soft and snuggly. Something about the way Kyungsoo is curled up, nose scrunched up and mouth still stuck in a pout has him wanting to coo. 

The other boy rolls onto his back, and then he’s staring blearily at Jongin. “Jongin?” he says, making grabby hands at Jongin. His movements are uncoordinated, and Jongin grabs onto one of his flailing hands to calm him.

“Hm?”

“It’s hot,” the omega says. Even in his sleep-thick voice, Jongin can hear the almost childish displeasure threading through his tone. He leaves his hand in Jongin’s.

“Take your sweater off then, silly,” Jongin says, fondly stroking the soft skin of his palm. Kyungsoo’s hands are so small in his. 

Kyungsoo wiggles a little, clearly too comfortable to move. “Help,” he whines. Jongin heaves a heavy sigh in response, but he doesn’t mind helping Kyungsoo. It doesn’t hurt to pamper him a little, with how hard he’s been working. 

He wrestles the sweater off of him after a brief struggle with the other boy’s uncooperative limbs. The t-shirt he’s wearing underneath has risen up a few inches after the struggle, revealing another shirt underneath. 

No wonder he’s feeling overheated, Jongin thinks, if he’s been wearing two layers of shirts under his hoodie.

“Kyungsoo? You’re wearing two layers still. Do you want to take one of them off?”

The omega turns back onto his side, facing Jongin. His face is smushed into the pillow, and when he shakes his head, it’s barely visible with how deeply he’s buried himself in the cushion. His eyes fall close again, and he reaches for Jongin’s hand. 

“Kyungsoo?”

“Nooo,” he whines again. “S’fine. My chest is too sensitive right now.”

Suddenly, Jongin remembers the way his chest looked just a couple nights before in that silk shirt of his—plumper and distractingly noticeable in a way that he’s never noticed before. He doesn’t know why, but he feels his ears burn at his words, at the image of it, and he drops Kyungsoo’s hand back onto the bed like hot coal. 

He stands up, wiping his palms on his jeans. “You should rest,” he says. “Good night, Soo. Sweet dreams.”

The smaller boy makes a muffled noise, and Jongin turns to leave the room. Just as he’s heading for the door, he notices a piece of paper left on Kyungsoo’s desk. It has the university’s doctor’s office header on it, with the heading “Leave of Absence Authorization” at the top.

He doesn’t read more of it, not wanting to intrude of his friend’s privacy—but pang of worry hits Jongin nonetheless. Is Kyungsoo feeling unwell? He has never been the type to miss classes, even when sick. But he has been overworking himself lately, and he’s seemed tired, more sluggish on the nights where Jongin is able to catch him before heading to bed himself.

Making a mental note to check up on Kyungsoo the next day, Jongin heads for his own room.

* * *

  
The next day couple of days, however, has Kyungsoo amping up his schedule even more. He doesn’t come home for dinner a few nights in a row, electing instead to grab a quick snack from the campus grocery store.

“I’ve been trying to get ahead of my course load,” Kyungsoo had quickly explained on his way out the door one morning. “So I’ve been holing up in the library.”

With each passing day, Jongin’s worries only increase. He wonders, briefly, if Kyungsoo is struggling with something internally like when they were younger and he was getting bullied--but Kyungsoo hasn’t been any less cheerful and content around him or their friends, even if he seems more fatigued. 

On Thursday, he finally resolves to have a proper conversation with Kyungsoo about it. He mulls over what he’ll ask as he walks with Yixing to the dance studio for practice.

(Is he feeling okay? Why is he taking time off school? Why hasn’t he talked to Jongin about it? Does he miss Jongin as much as Jongin misses him?)

Next to him, Yixing rambles on about a funny story that Baekhyun told him when they went out for dinner the previous night. Jongin nods along, only half-listening.

In the distance, he suddenly picks up a familiar laugh, the one that goes higher pitched at the end when he feels particularly amused by something. The one that often accompanies a bright smile, the round curve of cheeks, and eyes closed in happiness. Jongin swings his head, automatically seeking the source of the laugh—and sees Kyungsoo.

He’s walking at a leisurely pace along the student boulevard, presumably to his next class. But he’s not alone. 

Next to Kyungsoo is another man. He’s tall, at least a head taller than the omega, with dark hair that falls perfectly styled across his forehead. Even from the distance, Jongin can tell that the other man is smiling down at Kyungsoo as he talks animatedly, hands waving in dramatic gestures. His cheeks are dimpled, and his grin is crookedly handsome. 

Whatever he’s saying, Kyungsoo must be delighted by it. 

Jongin watches as they walk together, the two men’s attention completely wrapped up in each other as they continue their conversation. In the background, Yixing prattles on, but it becomes white noise to his ears. There’s a discomfort rising in his stomach, and lodges in his throat. His eyes feel stuck on the two of them, and he can’t pinpoint why he can’t move away, why he feels this discomforted.

It must be a new friend of Kyungsoo’s. He wonders if Kyungsoo has mentioned him before. The other man isn’t someone Jongin recognizes, and the way they seem to be in their own world must mean that they must know each other quite well by now. Has Kyungsoo been hanging out with him lately? Is that why he’s been so busy? 

The taller man says something, and it sparks another burst of laughter from Kyungsoo. They’re inaudible now, having walked much further ahead, but suddenly all of Jongin’s breath is gone because Kyungsoo is doing that _thing_ , the one that Jongin prides himself in being able to incite, where he throws his head back in laughter before he curls up closer to you and grabs onto your bicep, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. Kyungsoo’s friend chuckles, his eyes crinkling in apparent fondness, and he slings his arm around the smaller boy’s shoulder and drags him closer. 

Kyungsoo doesn’t move away.

“—and then he said, “waboom!” Oh, Baekhyun, he’s such a strange one,” Yixing continues. 

Jongin breathes, having stopped without him even realizing. The strange feeling in his stomach hasn’t dissipated, but instead, feels heavier, lingering like a stain. Kyungsoo and his friend are no longer in view, but he feels no less better.

Why does he feel this way?

A hand comes around his shoulder, and he jumps. “Are you listening?” asks Yixing. He hears a tinge of worry in the other dancer’s voice. 

“I’m-” Jongin forces his attention back to Yixing, physically turning his body away from the direction Kyungsoo had went in. Out of sight, out of mind. “I’m—yeah. I’m good. What were you saying?”

His friend is silent for a moment. “Everything okay? You seemed a little distracted.”

Jongin sucks in a breath through his teeth, and lets it out. The pit in his stomach is still there, and it rests uneasy with him. He doesn’t like feeling this way, especially not when it concerns his best friend. “Yeah, just—I just saw Kyungsoo and got sidetracked for a moment.”

“Oh,” Yixing responds, dubiously, as if doubting the truthfulness in Jongin’s answer. He hesitates, before continuing. “We should’ve said hi!”

He shakes his head, and starts walking again. They must have stopped in their tracks at some point without him realizing it. “Nah, he was with a friend.”

“Oh? Who?”

Shrugging one shoulder, Jongin shakes his head again. “Dunno. Didn’t recognize him. Seemed close though, they were acting kinda touchy.”

“Ah.” There’s a weird lilt to his voice, in the way he pronounces the syllable. When Jongin glances at his friend, the other alpha has a knowing look on his face.

“What?” he asks, suspicious. 

The alpha only shrugs his shoulders ambivalently, and claps a hand to Jongin’s shoulder. “Did it bother you? Seeing them together?” 

His question rests uneasy with Jongin as he pictures Kyungsoo and the other man again, the two of them laughing together, leaning in close and sharing the same space. The chasm in his chest expands once more, and it makes his hackles rise. Something about the image makes him want to—to ask Kyungsoo if they’re okay, him and Jongin, if he was lying about being in the library lately, if he was avoiding Jongin, if he’s still Jongin’s best friend. 

Something about the sight of the two of them together leaves him unsettled. It feels wrong. He doesn’t like it, like he’s not in control of his own body.

“No,” Jongin lies. “Just wondering who he was.”

Yixing doesn’t look like he believes him, but he nods along anyway. “Well, I’m sure you’ll find out soon. Kyungsoo always tells you everything.”

Jongin nods, but that weird feeling in his chest only grows.

(Does he?)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so ^^;; this is now going to be 3 chapters instead of 2! please enjoy~
> 
> i forgot to mention this in the previous chapter but this fic is dedicated to my favourite kaisooists ♥ hopefully you know who you are!
> 
> unbeta'd as usual

When Jongin gets home that night after dinner with the team, Kyungsoo is fast asleep on their couch. The omega is curled up on his side, clearly having fallen asleep while watching the TV. It comes as a surprise to Jongin—not only to see his roommate home already, but that he fell asleep early again.

Even through the residual discomfort from earlier, worry hits Jongin once more. Almost enough to forget about the weirdness he felt this afternoon. It’s not like Kyungsoo to nap.

As quietly as possible, Jongin shuffles over to turn off the television. He quickly grabs a blanket from Kyungsoo’s room and returns to the living room to drape it over the sleeping omega, fixing it around his small frame as comfortably as possible. 

From the way position he’s sleeping, Kyungsoo’s bangs are falling into his eyes, clearly tickling him. His eyes are scrunched up tight, pouty mouth frowning as his nose twitches slightly in irritation. Chuckling, Jongin reaches over to fix his bangs, sweeping them to the side of his face.

The movement must have woken Kyungsoo up, though, because the omega suddenly breaks into a wide yawn before peeking an eye open. Upon seeing Jongin, still with his hand hovering over Kyungsoo’s face, the omega blinks wide awake and shifts into a sitting position.

“Jongin?” Kyungsoo says, the last syllable of his name dissolving into another big yawn. “What were you doing?” His ears are red, Jongin notices, and he wonders if maybe Kyungsoo is getting sick. 

“Just putting a blanket on you,” he replies. “Nevermind that, are you feeling okay, Soo? You look a little red. And you don’t usually nap.”

If anything, Kyungsoo only reddens more, the rosy tinge spreading from his ears down to his cheeks. He nods jerkily. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

Jongin stares at his friend, studying his face. Something about Kyungsoo feels off, like he’s nervous and hiding something. “You sure?”

“I’m just sleepy,” Kyungsoo quickly says. The alpha files away his remaining questions for later. Kyungsoo clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, and he doesn’t seem sad or anything. Only embarrassed. “Oh! Jongin, are you free tomorrow? Sorry, I know it’s a little last minute.”

He racks his brain for his schedule tomorrow. “Only classes until 4, I think. What’s up?”

Sitting up straighter on the couch, Kyungsoo smiles up at Jongin. His smile is small, but sweet. “Wanna do something? Rehearsal was postponed for Saturday so I’m free in the evening.”

“Sure, what do you have in mind?”

Kyungsoo hums, leaning back as he thinks. “Craving anything?”

“Something soupy,” says Jongin. “It’s been so cold out lately. It’s soup season.”

A part of him hopes that Kyungsoo will offer to make his mom’s stew, but more than anything, he just wants to spend time with his best friend.

“You’re right, it is,” Kyungsoo readily agrees. “How about I choose the place? Do you want to meet on campus first and head over together?”

He recalls that Kyungsoo’s class ends earlier than his—sometime in the afternoon. “Are you okay waiting for me to finish?”

Happiness thrums through Jongin when he sees the way Kyungsoo tilts his head in response, eyes glittering mischievously. “Mhm. I want to surprise you.”

At that, Jongin feels warm inside. He was wondering if maybe Kyungsoo forgot about making plans with him, and he feels _giddy_ that it’s clearly not the case. His remaining anxieties are quickly tucked away. He wants to savour the moments they spend together, and with Kyungsoo smiling up at him with such fondness and joy, Jongin finds that he can’t bring himself to confront him yet on his irregular behaviour.

Maybe everything is okay after all.

* * *

By the remaining ten minutes of Jongin’s last class of the day, his foot is tapping impatiently on the cheap vinyl flooring as he fiddles with his pen. The person sitting next to him looks over with a glare when Jongin drops his pen on the floor for the fourth time that lecture, his jitters getting to him, and he mouths an apology over at them. 

Throughout the whole day, all he could think about was seeing Kyungsoo. He didn’t get a chance to chat with him in the morning besides a quick “see you later!” when Kyungsoo ran out the door to get to class, and the anticipation of their _hangout_ sends a burst of nervous jitters through him.

(A small part of Jongin’s brain supplies the word _date_ , but he quashes the thought as soon as it flits through his mind. Not a date. Why would it be a date.)

Before the professor even finishes his lecture, Jongin begins packing up his belongings as soon as the clock hits 3:50 PM. He knows he’s probably annoying everyone around him, rustling noisily as his professor fights to finish his thought, but he has long lost his patience to sit there any longer.

Kyungsoo had told him that he would be waiting at the fountain on the main boulevard. Sure enough, Jongin sees him sitting on the ledge of the fountain when he arrives. The smaller male is reading something on his phone, the other hand pinning his bangs to the side of his face so it doesn’t fall in his eyes. The omega had complained about needing a haircut a few times, but Jongin likes the way his fringe seems to frame his round face.

He looks up as Jongin walks up to him, pocketing his phone as he pushes his glasses higher up on his nose bridge. The familiar action makes Jongin smile.

“Hey,” says Kyungsoo in his soft voice of his. “How did class go?”

Jongin shrugs. “Wasn’t paying attention, to be honest.”

That earns Jongin a playful slap on his arm. “Jongin! You’re paying to be there, you should pay attention in lecture.”

“It’s Friday!” Jongin protests. “Besides, that’s rich, coming from you. I’ve seen you in class—you space out immediately as soon as the professor starts talking.” 

Kyungsoo turns red, and huffs a little. It’s a cute sight, Kyungsoo pouting, and Jongin reaches over and pinches the rounded tip of his nose in response. The older man paws Jongin’s hands away and elbows him in the side. 

“Stop that, you!” he says, but Jongin can hear in his tone that he doesn’t really mind being teased like this. 

Jongin watches him for a few seconds, tracing the lingering smile and the mirth in his eyes. “Should we go?” he asks. He means to reflect the same playfulness back at Kyungsoo, but somehow, it comes out gentle instead. 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo nods. He hesitates for a moment, his eyes looking away from Jongin, before he grabs onto Jongin’s hand. It’s the first time in awhile since they’ve hold hands—Kyungsoo can be clingy, but he usually prefers hugs instead. But his skin feels soft, and the warmth diffuses into Jongin’s. It fits perfectly. “Let’s go.”

The alpha lets himself be dragged towards the bus loop. He grounds himself in the feeling of Kyungsoo’s hand in his. Jongin can only see the back of Kyungsoo’s head from the way he’s walking, stubbornly in front of Jongin, but his neck and ears are an endearing shade of red. He must be cold, Jongin thinks.

When they board the bus, Jongin unwraps his scarf and tucks it neatly around Kyungsoo’s neck. The fabric dwarves the omega’s shoulders, and Jongin chuckles fondly at the way the other boy’s eyes widened almost comically from the action.

“What’s this for?” Kyungsoo asks. One hand comes up to play with the fringe of the blanket scarf. 

“You looked cold,” Jongin says. He gives the scarf one final pat before settling into his seat properly, shifting his body back towards the front instead of towards Kyungsoo.

There’s a brief pause before Kyungsoo lets out a quiet “oh.” From the corner of his eye, Jongin sees the omega smiling as he nuzzles the scarf. 

“So, where are we going?” Jongin nudges Kyungsoo. The smaller man only shakes his head, a secretive smile lighting up his face. He shrugs, playing coy. Jongin has to resist the urge to pinch his cheek, or to poke him in the tummy until he gives a proper answer, but he doesn’t want to ruin the surprise either.

The bus ride is over quicker than expected, Kyungsoo grabbing onto Jongin’s hand and tugging him towards the door to signal their upcoming stop. Glancing out the window, Jongin easily recognizes the neighbourhood. Seocho is a particularly affluent neighbourhood, and there’s only one reason why they would be here that Jongin could think of.

His suspicions are confirmed when they get off the bus, stopping in front of a grandiose moon-shaped building, the backdrop of mountains casting a shadow that only highlighted the illumination of golden lights from inside. Around the complex, Jongin can see bustles of people of all ages milling around and relaxing in the public seating area, tourists to locals alike. 

“Do you like it?” Kyungsoo says, next to him. There’s an anxious note in his voice, and his grip tightens minutely on Jongin’s hand. “I got us tickets to a production here.”

The Seoul Arts Center is a massive arts complex that hosts performances and gallery exhibits from dance, to calligraphy, to opera. Jongin has only been here a few times in the past, often to the Performance Theatre through his connections with the dance team at school. With classes and everything else, though, he doesn’t get as many chances as he’d like to see productions.

It’s his dream to dance on stage here one day. 

He turns to face Kyungsoo properly. The shorter boy is craning up to look at him, his round eyes widened in hope and nervousness as he awaits Jongin’s response. Jongin can see the lights reflecting from his light brown irises, and thinks he could get lost in them like this. 

“Kyungsoo, this is amazing. Of course I love it,” Jongin says, serious. His lips lift in the corner, giddy at the prospect of seeing a show with his favourite person. “What show is it?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes flit to the side as his hand comes up to play with his fringe again. Even with his mouth covered partially by Jongin’s large muffler, he can tell by the way his eyes crinkle just _so_ that he’s smiling. “It’s Ahn Sungsoo’s new creation.”

“Ahn Sungsoo?” Jongin’s face splits into a grin as he beams down at his friend. Ahn Sungsoo is an amazing choreographer that personally inspired his own approach to dance—intertwining layers of different genres and shifting fluidly between elements of hip-hop, ballet, and contemporary. “He’s my favourite,” he says reverently.

“I know,” Kyungsoo says. His voice is hushed, and he meets Jongin’s eyes again. There’s something in his gaze that feels heavy, like there’s something unspoken. But distracted by the surprise, Jongin pulls the omega into a tight hug. Kyungsoo stiffens at first, before melting into his embrace, his face nuzzling slightly into Jongin’s neck.

In his arms, the omega is warm—a contrast to the frigid air outside. Jongin breathes out slowly, savouring the feeling. “Thank you, Kyungsoo.” Against the crook of his neck, he feels the smaller man nod slightly. 

“We should go in,” Kyungsoo says when he pulls out of his embrace. The tip of his ears are red again. 

Despite having been there several times before, Jongin still can’t help but marvel at the beautiful interiors of the Arts Center. The theatre they’re in is even more impressive—over a thousand seats that circle around the main stage, glamourously dressed in golds and a deep crimson. Most of the seats are filled up now, and Jongin hurries along with Kyungsoo into their reserved seats in the second flooring.

“Sorry I couldn’t get seats closer to the orchestral pit,” Kyungsoo apologizes. “Or even on the first floor.”

Jongin squeezes his hand—their fingers still laced together. “Are you crazy? This is amazing enough! You didn’t have to treat me to something like this. We could’ve just done a simple dinner, I know you must be tired.” 

Kyungsoo shakes his head. “I’m glad we can do this together.” His words settle over Jongin warmly, and he’s just about to respond when the theatre darkens and the orchestra starts up. 

Shadowed figures ebb out onto the stage as the music begins. Their movements are sharp and purposeful, yet retaining an air of elegance to them, and Jongin wishes he could be joining on stage too. As the moody, purple lighting casts a glow on the dancer’s silhouettes, Jongin envisions himself among those bodies, unrestricted between form and flow, breaking between the barriers of contemporary and traditional dance. 

But in spite of the show, Jongin can’t help but feel hyper aware of the warmth emanating by his side, the weight of Kyungsoo’s hands still clasped in his. The omega’s scent seemingly permeates the theatre—despite knowing that there’s most likely on one else picking up on his scent besides Jongin, just by nature of their proximity and familiar with one another—but it distracts him. 

There’s something slightly different about Kyungsoo’s scent. It’s sweeter, a little cloying in his nose. 

Near the end of the production, Jongin chances a glance at him, wanting to see his reaction to the show. It’s not quite Kyungsoo’s style—he’s not big of a fan of high arts and the abstract—but Jongin’s heart starts beating a little faster when he notices the wide, enraptured gaze of the omega. His lips are parted in amazement, glistening slightly even in the darkness from Kyungsoo’s habit of licking them. 

There’s something wondrous about the way he looks.

Perhaps feeling the weight of his gaze, Kyungsoo shifts slightly and turns to face Jongin. Their eyes lock, and as if jolted by the a live wire, Jongin feels a frisson of energy exchange between them. Suddenly, it’s like he’s forgotten how to breathe, and his palms grow clammy as he watches the way Kyungsoo bites his bottom lip.

It feels like minutes, both of them holding stock still as they look at each other. But then the spell is broken when the orchestra reaches a crescendo, and Kyungsoo’s eyes are drawn back towards the stage once more.

And just like before, Jongin feels unsettled. His heart is going crazy, and he detangles his fingers from Kyungsoo’s and places his palm over his chest, willing it to calm down. He doesn’t know why his body and emotions seem to go haywire lately around his childhood friend, and he suppresses the urge to freak about it. 

He keeps his hands in his lap for the rest of the production.

Despite his earlier transfixion with the stage, Jongin finds himself unable to focus on the dancers. Instead, he grows steadily aware of Kyungsoo’s presence next to his. When the lights come back on, it feels almost like a reprieve—and Jongin jumps up, startling Kyungsoo who was still clapping. 

“Where to next?” he asks, almost manically.

Kyungsoo eyes him oddly. “I made dinner reservations for us,” he responds, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Is everything okay, Jongin?”

Jongin nods, shoving his hands in his pocket as he turns towards the door. “Yep!” he says, the lie coming out a little shrill. “Just hungry!” He keeps his back towards Kyungsoo, not wanting to see his reaction. 

They walk out of the theatre together, Kyungsoo trailing behind Jongin until he speeds up to walk next to him again. He leads the way to the restaurant as the alpha rambles about his wayward thoughts on the production along their walk, not wanting to give Kyungsoo any more opportunities to prod about his suddenly frantic behaviour. His hands are kept steadfastly in his pocket, but he can’t help but notice how Kyungsoo’s hand swings freely between them. 

The trek to the restaurant isn’t far, just across the main road from the Arts Center. Kyungsoo comes to a stop in front of a squat brick building with a royal blue awning. It’s inconspicuous, particularly compared to the grandeur of the Arts Center—but knowing Kyungsoo, it’s probably what he researched and is looking forward to the most.

When they enter, it’s a homey place. Like many restaurants in Korea, no shoes are allowed to be worn in, and Jongin spends a few minutes carefully unlacing his sneakers while Kyungsoo kicks his off before lining them neatly against the step. There are menu items with pictures mounted on the wall, and low tables close to the ground with no chairs. Near the door is a sign which indicates that the restaurant, _Baengnyeonok_ , was awarded a bib gourmand in Michelin 2018. 

“I’ve been wanting to try this place for awhile,” Kyungsoo explains as they seat themselves at one of the tables. He asks for a pitcher of water to be brought to their table. “But there’s never really been a reason for me to come out to this side of Seocho.”

Jongin pours water into both their cups. “So you’re just using me as an excuse to come eat this restaurant?” he teases. This is what he’s used to—teasing Kyungsoo and playing around with him. 

The other boy adamantly shakes his head. “No—of course not! I-I just wanted to treat you to something nice and this restaurant just happens to be here too...”

“Hm,” Jongin says, pretending to think about it. “I don’t know if I believe you.”

Kyungsoo pouts, crossing his arms dramatically. He turns his head to the side with a _harrumph_. “Maybe I should just leave then,” he threatens.

Jongin laughs before dramatically reaching over to clasp Kyungsoo’s hand. “Noooo,” he draws out. “Don’t leave me!”

Usually, Kyungsoo would take this opportunity to fling Jongin’s hand away and pretend to leave, claiming he would throw Jongin to the sharks if he needs to. This is the script they follow, the one they play to. It’s what Jongin’s familiar with.

But unlike the usual, Kyungsoo instead turns his hand so he can gently lace his fingers through Jongin’s once more. He’s still looking away, but there’s a tinge of rosiness at the tip of his ears and dusting his cheeks. “You know I would never,” he says quietly.

For a moment, Jongin is thrown. Kyungsoo broke the script, and he doesn’t know why—but the weird fluttery feelings are back, as if there were moths swarming around his chest, beating against his rib cage and trying to escape. He sits there, stunned for a moment, and just as Kyungsoo starts to curl in on himself and moves to unclasp their hands, Jongin tightens his grasp on the other.

He opens his mouth—to say what, he’s not sure yet—but before he gets anything out, they’re interrupted by the restaurant owner who asks if they’re ready to order yet.

Quickly, Kyungsoo disentangles their hands as he picks the menu back up, scanning it quickly before ordering the restaurant’s most famous tofu dishes. The waitstaff, a matronly woman, is immediately charmed. It’s hard not to be, when Kyungsoo’s earnest doe eyes are turned on you. There’s a glimmer of excitement in the undercurrent of his voice, as there always is whenever the omega is talking about food, and the weird tension between them evaporates as Kyungsoo focuses on ordering instead.

A strange feeling still lingers in Jongin. He’s not sure if he’s feeling relieved that the moment was interrupted and he was saved from figuring out how to respond, or if the weird ache in his chest is from something else.

“How has dance practice been?” Kyungsoo asks. Jongin watches with some fondness as the other carefully inspects each side dish that the waitress placed on the table, picking out the lotus roots braised in sweet soy sauce first. Bringing his chopsticks near his nose, he takes in the smell from the root before finally munching on it. 

Jongin decides to dig in as well, popping some of the braised potatoes into his mouth. “Pretty good,” he says. It comes out a little muffled, his mouth still full of food. “We’re having a showcase at the end of the semester, so we’re just finalizing the choreography now.”

“Make sure you invite me!”

“Only if you invite me to your show,” Jongin replies, picking out one of the braised potatoes to place in Kyungsoo’s dish. They always make an effort to see each other’s performances, and so far, Jongin has never missed a single one of Kyungsoo’s.

The waitress brings out the tofu hotpot and ground soybean stew, its distinct fermented smell makes Jongin’s mouth water. He waits for Kyungsoo to sniff these too, before the elder quickly doles out a portion each for Jongin and himself, gesturing at him to eat.

After they’ve both taken a few bites, Kyungsoo speaks up again. “I feel bad that I’ve been so absent this semester,” he says. He’s staring forlornly into his stew. “I swear I’ll be around more soon. I just have to get through these next few weeks.”

“It’s okay,” Jongin says placatingly. He’s missed him, he really has—but he’s not selfish enough to demand more time from Kyungsoo, who already seems so stretched thin. “I miss your face, but I just want you to rest.”

Kyungsoo sighs, taking another careful sip at the hot soup. “This year especially has just been...” he trails off, seemingly lost in a wayward thought. “I just have more things going on this year that I have to take care of.”

Again, Jongin remembers all the moments where Kyungsoo had fallen asleep or seemed out of it, his worry returning once more. It’s been hard trying to find the perfect time to ask Kyungsoo about his wellbeing, and he decides that now is better than never. 

“You’ve seemed more tired lately,” Jongin agrees, frowning. “Is there anything I can help you with? I’m worried you haven’t had a chance to take care of yourself more.” 

Kyungsoo pauses, and for a moment, Jongin worries that Kyungsoo will shut down again or turn him away. He doesn’t want to encroach on Kyungsoo’s boundaries, and he would hate to come off as overbearing. But then Kyungsoo squares his shoulder, even if his gaze is still averted.

“Yeah, um,” he starts off. Kyungsoo’s hesitation is palpable. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that...do you remember how I had an appointment the other day? When we went to Minseok’s house?”

Vaguely, the alpha recalls his brief run-in to Kyungsoo in the morning before he had to leave for dance practice. He nods.

“Um, so I had a doctor’s appointment that day...”

An image of the doctor’s note sitting innocently on Kyungsoo’s desk appears in his mind. He makes an affirming noise to show he’s listening, but the omega takes his time to continue his sentence, his eyes roaming around the restaurant in the way he does whenever he’s thinking hard. Sometimes Kyungsoo needs some time to formulate his thoughts and articulate them, a habit that Jongin has never minded. Until now, that is, with a sense of panic grows with every second that passes.

“And, um, the doctor said that—uh, well. I guess I should start with this, um, so the reason why I’ve been so tired lately is—”

All of a sudden, a voice strikes through his sentence, interrupting the omega. “Kyungsoo?”

Both Jongin and Kyungsoo startle, the latter’s eyes growing wide once more as he whips his head in the direction of the door. It’s not a voice Jongin recognizes, and he turns around to see where it came from. 

Sauntering through the door is the handsome tall man that was hanging around Kyungsoo yesterday. With some distant bitterness, Jongin notes that he has to stoop slightly to even fit under the doorframe. He’s heading straight towards them, dimples and a bright, toothy grin and all. 

“Kyungsoo!” the man says again, and he immediately throws his arm around the omega. The force of his embrace pulls Kyungsoo halfway up on his knees, and their size difference is even more pronounced with Kyungsoo still on the ground. Kyungsoo’s arm automatically wraps around his waist, too short to reach his shoulders properly. 

It can’t be a comfortable position to hug someone, Jongin notes with distaste. Kyungsoo’s friend is clearly inconsiderate—if it was Jongin, he would have sat at the same level of the omega so he wouldn’t have to strain himself upwards like that. 

The man pulls back, but remains standing next to him. Kyungsoo has to crane his neck back to look at him properly, and Jongin thinks that the other man must like the sight of that if his widened grin is anything to go by. 

“Seonho?” Kyungsoo asks. One hand pushes up his glasses, and he cards his hand through his bangs. “What are you doing here?”

Seonho jauntily gestures behind him in the general direction of the door. “I saw _Private Lives_ over at Jayu Theatre. I remembered you telling me about this restaurant before so I wanted to check it out while I was in the area.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes curve into crescents as he smiles up at Seonho. “We were just at the Arts Centre too!”

The other man still has yet to spare even a glance at Jongin, and he wonders just how rude this guy could be. To just interrupt their conversation and then not even greet him properly—what a fucking prick, Jongin thinks.

“Oh?” Seonho simpers. “What were you watching?”

“We went to see a dance production,” Kyungsoo explains, gesturing towards Jongin. “Oh! This is Jongin, my best friend and roommate. Jongin, this is Seonho. He’s my project partner for our Korean lit class, I mentioned it a few days ago...”

His mind flashes back to their conversation. He must be the one that Kyungsoo called “funny,” the one that Kyungsoo surprisingly didn’t mind working with.

“I remember. Hi,” Jongin says dully. He ignores the way Kyungsoo frowns at his response.

The tall man just smirks, nodding his head in a single motion. “Kyungsoo’s talked a lot about you.”

“Really? He barely mentioned you to me,” Jongin says. He doesn’t know why, but something about the guy sets him off. Although normally quite even-keeled, he has to force his voice to remained level. 

Seonho barely reacts, just shrugging off his response before turning his attention back to Kyungsoo, who’s still frowning over at Jongin. “Have you seen _Private Lives_ yet? I think you would like it!”

The frown melts off from Kyungsoo’s face when he turns his attention back to Seonho. He smiles again, all gummy and sweet. “I haven’t. Is that the one where two couples are on a honeymoon in adjacent hotel rooms and decide to leave their partner for the person in the room over?”

Jongin wants to rip Seonho’s smile off his face. “Yep,” the taller man says. “It’s written by one of my favourite queer playwrights—it’s absolutely brilliant.” 

“I’ll have to see it some time then,” Kyungsoo replies. 

Seonho shrugs again, opening his arms wide in a pseudo-welcoming gesture. “Why don’t I come with you next time? We can study their staging techniques together. There are some free art exhibits at the Center that we could go to, too.” He turns to Jongin. “I’m a theatre major with a minor in art history,” he explains.

(Jongin feels tempted to tell him that his father is an art professor - he could get Kyungsoo to way better galleries for free. But he doesn’t.)

“Wow, cool,” says Jongin instead. It’s clear in his tone but he means anything but that. He feels Kyungsoo staring daggers into his profile, but he keeps his gaze on Seonho. 

Jongin knows he's probably being unnecessarily hostile towards Kyungsoo's friend, but he can't help it. It's unbelievable to him that the taller man is flirting with the omega _right in front of him_ , as if Jongin doesn't exist at all. Even if they're not on a date—and they're not—it's rude and inconsiderate. To Jongin, it only shows that Seonho is a pretentious, smarmy creep. Who knows what his true intentions are towards Kyungsoo, and he doesn't want the other man anywhere near his friend. 

Yet somehow, despite Kyungsoo normally being quite reserved and shy around new people, he seems to be at ease with Seonho. And it's this fact that disturbs Jongin the most, digging a vortex of bitterness into his consciousness and embedding seeds of disbelief in him. Why is Kyungsoo just sitting there, smiling brightly at this other man? 

From the looks of it, Jongin must be the only uncomfortable one there. The realization dawns on him slowly, a pit growing in his stomach once more.

Kyungsoo shakes his head in response to Seonho’s offer, and a vicious stab of vindication rips through Jongin before slowly turning into cold dread when the omega instead says, “That sounds really fun, Seonho.” His voice is stupidly earnest, and it makes Jongin want to throttle something. “Why don’t we go see another play instead? I don’t want you to have to sit through the same thing twice just for me.” 

Seonho laughs, bending over again to wrap an arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulders. Jongin stares daggers at the touch, wanting nothing more but to yank that arm off of him. “I wouldn’t mind if it’s for you,” he says. The alpha cringes at the honey-smooth tone he’s using on Kyungsoo. “But let’s see what productions are on right now, hm?”

“Excuse me, sir?” the waitress interrupts, glancing between Seonho and Kyungsoo. “Will you be joining them at this table?”

Somehow, the thought of Seonho sitting and _eating_ with them had never occurred to him. He doesn’t know if he can sit through a dinner of the other man staring at Kyungsoo with such obvious hearts in his eyes—he may actually puke.

Thankfully, Seonho shakes his head, quirking a grin at the waitress. “No, I’ll just grab a table for two. I’m waiting for my friend,” he explains to Kyungsoo.

“That’s too bad,” says the omega. Jongin wants to protest—that’s the best news he’s heard since Seonho waltzed in there. “Maybe next time?”

“You can bet on that.” Seonho has the gall to wink at Kyungsoo, and Jongin nearly spits out his tea when Kyungsoo reddens bashfully in response.

The tall man follows the waitress to a table on the opposite side of the room, nearly out of sight for both Jongin and Kyungsoo, to his immense relief. Immediately, Kyungsoo continues piling food onto Jongin’s dish again, but there’s still a small smile toying at the corner of his lips that makes the food suddenly taste so much more unsatisfying to the alpha.

“You two seem cosy,” Jongin can’t help but remark. He tries to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but he’s not sure he’s too successful when the smile slowly drops off Kyungsoo’s face, and a look of concern replaces it instead.

“Do we?” Kyungsoo slowly replies. His lips are pursed and eyebrows are furrowed in the way he tends to do when he’s puzzled. It’s tempting to smooth out his brow with his hands, but Jongin’s feeling weirdly pouty himself right now. “He’s nice, I suppose. We’ve had to spend a lot of time together working on our project, so I guess that’s why?”

“Oh.”

If anything, the omega’s answer only sours his mood further. So they barely even know each other, only for a few months at most, and they’re already acting so chummy? Who does this guy think he is?

“Is something...” Kyungsoo starts, pausing for a few seconds before continuing on. “Is something wrong, Jongin?”

“No. Why would there be?”

Kyungsoo frowns. His sad, little face causes of a pang of guilt and shame passing through the alpha. He doesn’t want to worry his friend—and he knows his face is stony, and his words are coming across passive-aggressive—but he can’t help it. Something about their entire interaction ruined his appetite, and he just wants to leave as soon as possible.

To somewhere far away from where tall and handsome strangers aren’t invading their space.

“I think my stomach hurts,” Jongin fibs, but the worried look on Kyungsoo doesn’t budge. “It’s nothing—more importantly, what were you going to say earlier?” Before your friend barged in uninvited to our conversation, he thinks but doesn’t say.

The other man looks back down at his food, shovelling up the last bit of tofu in his bowl. “Nevermind,” he says into the tofu. The hurt in his tone is apparent. “I’ll just tell you when we get home.”

“Alright,” Jongin agrees. He hates seeing Kyungsoo like this, and it’s even worse when he knows he’s the cause. As much as he wants to reach out, to grab Kyungsoo’s hand again and to sooth him, he can’t help but remember that Seonho is still there.

Instead, Jongin focuses on his food again too. The sooner they finish eating, the quicker they can get out of there. 

He feels like the worst friend in the world.

* * *

  
The bus ride home is nearly silent. The things left unsaid between them linger thickly in the air, but Kyungsoo's still slumped tiredly against Jongin. The sight of his round face leaning against his shoulder warms his heart, and Jongin finds that his residual annoyance from Seonho's disrupting presence quickly fades with the increased distance away from the other man.

It hadn't taken them much longer to finish up the food, and Jongin had bailed from having to see the omega bid Seonho goodbye by busying himself with their bill. It was his way of apologizing a little too, and Kyungsoo has never been the type to turn down being pampered with a free meal. 

Even then, he could hear their laughter rising above the din of noise from the restaurant like a targeted attack.

In the silence punctuated only with bus stop announcements, Jongin’s mind wanders back towards the past few weeks. It’s like a flip has switched at some point and he never realized it, and suddenly he’s helplessly noticing every detail about Kyungsoo that he never paid attention to before. The way his eyelashes flutter when he’s sleepy, the way his lips become pursed in a moue of discontent when he’s focused, the roundness of his cheeks when he’s smiling and how endearing it looks. His eyes pick up on all the silly little habits the omega has, and it fills him with...warmth. Affection.

Before, he would take comfort in Kyungsoo’s natural earthy scent—but now, he picks it up and can’t help but _focus_ on it and the way it seems to surround him and fill up the room. His heart seems to accelerate whenever he gets too close, but Jongin feels nonetheless drawn to him each and every time, like moth to flame. 

And then there’s Seonho—the weird, nasty ache in his chest grows and his heart feels heavy whenever he remembers the small smile on Kyungsoo’s face when the two talked with each other, both on campus and at the restaurant. How Seonho seemed to stand a little too close to him at all times, but Kyungsoo didn’t seem to mind it either. The image of Kyungsoo tucked into Seonho’s embrace feels as if someone is digging their thumb into a bruise, and Jongin winces, rubbing at his chest.

Again, there’s that inkling Jongin had a felt over and over again lately. Like he’s somehow lost control of his body and his instincts.

A chill passes through his body. _Instincts_. He thinks back to his countless conversations with Kyungsoo—and later, Baekhyun and Minseok—about their rants against alphas who justify acting like creeps as “alpha instincts.” The strange feeling he gets around Kyungsoo lately, like his heart is about to burst out of his chest when he sees his smile or like he wants to cry when Seonho is around—is this...because he’s an alpha?

Jongin’s mind races as he thinks through their recent interactions again. It’s one of his greatest fears and something he tries to actively work against, that he could be subconsciously living up to some internalized alpha behaviour. And maybe that’s it—that somehow, his alpha has taken over in the most primitive way.

It doesn’t explain why he only feels this way towards Kyungsoo, but Jongin surmises that it could be because they’ve been living together and Jongin is instinctually defaulting to some archaic notion of pack, that Kyungsoo is somehow his.

There’s something that feels right about that— _his_ —and it’s a horrifying and terrifying thought. Kyungsoo is his _friend_. His best friend. Jongin has no right to claim him as anything else, and the idea that he could be _becoming_ one of Kyungsoo’s worst nightmares—an alpha who completely disregards the personhood of omegas—plagues him for the rest of the bus ride.

Their apartment is chilled by the time they get home, their kitchen window having been left open during the day, and Kyungsoo hurriedly escapes to his room as soon as they're through the door. Unsure of how to revisit the conversation about his doctor's appointment, and if Kyungsoo's too upset with him to talk now, Jongin toddles around in the kitchen. He drags out the process of grabbing a glass of water to drink, arbitrarily inspecting their mugs carefully before choosing his usual one to bide himself some time as he thinks about the best approach. 

He breathes a quiet sigh of relief when Kyungsoo emerges from his bedroom again, now clad in an oversized, cozy, worn hoodie and loose pair of shorts for sleeping. His glasses are off now, but Jongin can still see the reddened marks left on his nose bridge from the nose pads. It's cute. 

Jongin stands awkwardly near the fridge, sipping from his mug as he watches Kyungsoo putter around the space. It's not until he finishes putting away their washed dishes left in their second sink that he looks at Jongin, gesturing at him to take a seat at their small dining table that they picked up secondhand from Minseok's neighbour.

Feeling a bit like a chastised child, Jongin takes a seat across from Kyungsoo. At first he thinks he's about to get lectured about his rude behaviour towards Seonho, but then he notices the way Kyungsoo starts chewing at his nails. It's a nervous habit that the omega has never properly unlearned, and it always comes out when he's feeling anxious.

"Soo?" he gently prompts. 

Slowly, Kyungsoo nods. He lets out an exhale of air, seemingly deflating before he straightens up properly in his chair. His mouth is set in a determined line now, a serious look on his face. Still, there's a nervous edge to it that unnerves Jongin.

"I've been thinking about this a lot for the past few weeks. Maybe even longer," he begins. "And I really, really wasn't sure if I should come to you for this. But—I'm sure now," he says.

Jongin nods in affirmation, unsure of where the conversation is heading.

"And—and I think I would regret it even more if I didn't say anything at all," Kyungsoo rambles on. "U-um, anyway. I'm getting ahead of myself a bit here. I should just start where we left off. Uh, you know how I had the doctor's appointment?" 

He looks expectantly at Jongin, who nods again.

Kyungsoo looks away before speaking again. From this angle, Jongin can see the way his ears are tinted red. "Well. I guess there's no other way to say this, but um. It's time for my scheduled heat."

Omegas, just like alphas, often take suppressants that inhibit their mating instincts and reduce the amount of heats and ruts they undergo per year. If uninhibited, omegas tend to go through heat once every two months; alphas rut once a month—clearly disruptive to most people's work and school obligations. Depending on the type of suppressants they take, heats and ruts can therefore be reduced to once a year or once every few years. 

As advanced as science and pharmaceutics have come, staying on suppressants for too long can really fuck with your biology and all the inner systems at work. According to whichever suppressant you take, it's therefore mandatory stop your medication intake for at least a month and allow yourself to undergo a cycle according to your doctor's orders during annual checkups.

For Jongin, he only has to rut once every three years. His last rut was spent with Yesuh, his beta ex-girlfriend.

Although Jongin and Kyungsoo have grown up together, they have never shared the sordid details of their mating cycles with each other. It's private, nothing you would typically disclose to others unless their heat or rut is somehow relevant to you. In all their years of friendship, Jongin has remained peripherally aware that Kyungsoo has required time off or has disappeared for about a week. 

But it's never been something he's kept track of, and he has no real idea of when his heat cycles are, and who he spends them with. Especially when they didn't live together until university, and for a period of that time, he had been splitting equal time between their shared apartment and Baekhyun's. 

Shock passes through Jongin at Kyungsoo's abrupt admission, and words halt in his mouth. Kyungsoo, though, steamrolls on. His face is bright red now, and he brings his hands up to cover his eyes as he continues. 

"Um—it's been two years since my last one, so yeah. It's time. Not that you need to know my schedule, um. Yeah."

He quickly calculates that in his mind—two years ago means that him and Baekhyun were still together, which is probably why Jongin never noticed anything. Something weird and ugly takes hold in his chest at the reminder that Baekhyun has seen Kyungsoo in that state, but he quickly shoves the feeling away. It's not the time for—for whatever has been happening to him to resurface again. 

The omega has fallen silent again, his teeth nibbling on his bottom lip until it's red and plump. From the way he's tapping his fingers on the table, Jongin can tell he's resisting the urge to bite his nails again. 

Then, it clicks in Jongin’s head--it all makes sense now. The naps he has been taking and the way his scent has grown sweeter in preparation for his heat. It must explain how touchy and openly affectionate Kyungsoo has been lately too, seeking out a comforting touch in Jongin.

And...his chest. The back of his neck prickles in embarrassment, and he takes a sip from his mug to disguise how flushed he feels from the image of Kyungsoo’s chest, all plump and soft-looking as it swells just slightly in preparation for his heat. It hasn’t been as noticeable the past week, but that’s because Kyungsoo has taken to wearing two layers of shirts and a bulky sweater on top.

Jongin feels a little stupid for not realizing it earlier, when the signs were all clearly there.

All this new information swirls around in Jongin's mind in dizzying circles, but he forces himself to respond anyway, knowing how difficult it must be for Kyungsoo to be discussing this with him.

"So this is why you've been tired lately?"

"Yep," he replies quickly. "I got a doctor's note too. Um, my heat will be in about a week and a half."

“Ah,” Jongin replies. He works through his thoughts for a moment, but it’s too much of a jumbled mess to parse through. For some reason, his heart starts beating faster—and again, his body has been doing this too much, too often lately. “Is there...um. Anything I can do to support you?” He finishes lamely.

At that, Kyungsoo makes a little eep of surprise and buries his face in his hands. Only his rosy ears are visible to Jongin, and he wishes he could see his friend's face so he could get a better sense of how he's feeling.

Jongin continues on, wanting to reassure his friend. "Like if you want some space, or if I should leave the apartment for awhi—" 

"I was thinking it wouldbenicetohaveanalphathistime," Kyungsoo barrels on, words flying out a little too fast and too muffled from his hands for Jongin to understand.

The alpha squints, confused. "Sorry? I couldn't hear you."

Silence. 

"Soo?"

Kyungsoo sighs before lowering his hand. He stares resolutely at the table, but he speaks slower this time. "I was thinking...it would, um, be nice to have an alpha. This time." The flush has spread down his neck now.

Not that Jongin is doing much better. He gapes at the other, mouth dropping open as the back of his neck begins to burn. Kyungsoo's answer flusters him, and he flounders with his suddenly blank mind for something to say. 

"An alpha?" he repeats after him.

If it was even possible, Kyungsoo looks even more embarrassed. He nods meekly. "Yeah," he says, quiet. "I...um, like I was saying earlier—I've been thinking about this for awhile now. A pretty long time, actually."

Grasping for something, anything to say, Jongin blurts out, "Do you have anyone in mind?" 

As soon as the words escape from his mouth, he feels himself flush even harder in mortification. His eyes dart around the room, perhaps for an escape, or for a convenient hole to open up underneath him and swallow him entirely. 

Just as he's about to change the subject, or maybe apologize for asking an invasive question, Kyungsoo nods. It's a hesitant one, just a small, aborted movement that belies his shyness. But it's enough to stop Jongin in his tracks, his mind whirling entirely to a stop. Kyungsoo's nod replays in his mind over and over again, just like a record that gets stuck in loop. 

Kyungsoo wants an alpha. To _accompany_ him during his heat. Not just any alpha, but a _specific_ alpha that he already has in mind.

The dream that Jongin had a week ago comes back to him, of the soft skin, softer flesh underneath his touch, and sweet, quiet moans that fill the air. And suddenly the unnamed, unseen body underneath him has a face again. It’s Kyungsoo’s, an uninvited image. Something heady starts rising in Jongin as his mind fills in the blanks of his dream, this time adding the imagery of slick and an earthy scent, and he clenches his fists in his lap as he tries to will them away.

Oblivious to Jongin’s inner struggles, Kyungsoo takes Jongin's silence as an unsaid prompt to speak again. His voice is even shakier now, and if Jongin was in the right mind, he would have noticed the omega's hand trembling—in fear, anxiety. Maybe anticipation.

"A-anyway," Kyungsoo begins. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Jonginnie. Um. For my heat. Because, um, I was wondering if y—"

Later, Jongin will blame shock for what he says next—the astounding duality of both what feels like a completely empty mind from surprise, and one that's filled with racing thoughts as he struggles to process what Kyungsoo is saying to him. With desperation, he scrambles for the first thing in mind, anything to distract him from the unwarranted images of Kyungsoo underneath an alpha, sweet and needy and _wanting_ , and— 

"How about Seonho?" Jongin interrupts. He doesn't know where the comment came from, but it spills from his lips like an overturned cup. Never mind the fact that he doesn't even know what Seonho's Secondary is, and that Kyungsoo hasn't once mentioned Seonho since they left the restaurant.

But in that moment, Jongin once again remembers how clearly interested Seonho is in Kyungsoo, and how Kyungsoo didn't necessarily seem opposed to his attention. It's a fact that blinds him in this moment, and he lets it overtake his rationality.

The omega is stunned into silence. And then he tenses. His small hands, which were twisting nervously on the table, halt in their fidgety movements as he stares at Jongin with wide, round eyes. “What?”

“Seonho. I saw you two on campus yesterday, and he keeps hugging you. You’re always smiling at him. He’s handsome, I guess, so it makes sense?” The words continue to fall from Jongin’s lips, and he’s dimly aware that he’s digging himself a bigger and bigger hole but he can’t stop. 

Wide eyes narrow, and Kyungsoo’s shocked face gradually turns stony the more Jongin speaks “Excuse me?” the omega says. His words are slow and deliberate, like he’s biting out the words. 

But Jongin is still remembering the way Seonho looked at Kyungsoo, his _leering_ eyes. “I think he would be interested,” he finishes at last. 

“You think he would be interested. In helping me through my heat.” Kyungsoo repeats flatly. 

Hearing those words from Kyungsoo’s lips causes another pang in Jongin’s chest, but he nods anyway.

On the table, Kyungsoo’s hands are clenched into tight fists now, and his eyebrows are furrowed deeply as he stares daggers at Jongin. It’s clear the omega is upset, that somewhere, Jongin made a misstep, and he sucks in a breath as his friend inhales deeply before exhaling. “Okay, first of all—I have no idea what Seonho’s Secondary is. Whether or not he’s an alpha has never been a detail I’ve been interested in.”

And for some reason, those words are a relief to Jongin to hear. It’s only a brief reprieve though. 

“Second of all, I thought you knew me better than that, Jongin. You know more than anyone how I feel about most alphas, especially ones I don’t know well. You know I don’t feel safe with them. How could you suggest that?”

Jongin opens his mouth, but shuts it immediately when Kyungsoo glares at him.

“I can’t believe you. I really can’t. This—do you know how hard it was for me to say this, when I just wanted to tell you that I lo—” Kyungsoo cuts himself off. Before Jongin can ask him what he was about to say, Kyungsoo makes a choked noise. To Jongin’s immense horror, tears glitter in the smaller man’s eyes, gathering in the corner and threatening to spill. “Nevermind. Clearly it wouldn’t matter to you.”

The omega sniffles once, twice, before scrubbing angrily at his face.

“Kyungsoo—”

“No,” Kyungsoo snaps. His voice is angry, but his eyes tell a different story. He gets up from his chair, staring down at Jongin even as a stray tear falls from his face. He looks hurt. “I don’t want to talk to you right now. Just—” he sighs. “Just give me some space.”

Helpless, he watches Kyungsoo retreat to his room. His heart hurts, as if someone gouged out a hole in his chest. In their years of friendship, Kyungsoo has never looked at him with so much pain and anger in his eyes, not even when he was dealing with bullying when they were younger. It’s a horrible feeling.

Left alone in their small kitchen, with only the faint noise of sniffling heard through their thin, worn walls to accompany him and his own sinking heart, Jongin sits there.

* * *

  
Over the next few days, Jongin barely catches a glimpse of Kyungsoo. He had thought that the past few months was as bad as it could get with how little he saw the omega, but he quickly proves him wrong. It shouldn’t have been possible in such a tiny apartment, yet somehow the older boy escapes earlier in the morning and comes home even later at night, rejecting every attempt Jongin makes at apologizing.

At this point, Jongin’s not sure if he even deserves forgiveness. His mind replays their conversation in the kitchen over and over again, how the words clumsily fell unbidden from his mouth, and the way Kyungsoo reacted. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw Kyungsoo cry, and he never wants to see it again—especially not when he’s the cause for his tears. 

Regardless, Monday finds him standing at Kyungsoo’s bedroom door, once again knocking quietly. The omega had only arrived home not too long ago, just a few minutes from midnight, before hightailing it immediately to his room. They both had an early day tomorrow with classes and their respective practices, but Jongin could feel anxiety thrumming in his veins if he didn’t try again.

“Kyungsoo?” Jongin calls out softly, rapping at the door lightly with his knuckles. He presses his ear to the wood, feeling a bit like a creep while doing so, and faintly makes out the rustling of blankets. 

There’s no response, but Jongin isn’t expecting one.

“Kyungsoo, I am so, _so_ sorry,” he tries again. “You’re right, I’m an idiot. I don’t know what’s come over me lately, I feel like I’ve been losing impulse control lately, like I’m going through a second alpha puberty or something—” he cuts himself off. It’s not the time to make excuses. “I’m just really sorry.”

Again, silence. But there’s no other noise heard through the old oak door, and he hopes it’s because Kyungsoo is listening to him.

“I’m sorry to disturb you right now too, I know you must be tired...but I just wanted to apologize. A-And that if there’s a way I can give you more space, I want to do that too. This is your home, and I don’t want to make you feel unsafe here.”

Not only that, but Kyungsoo is preparing for his heat right now. The alpha has been doing some readings over the past few days on how to care and support someone going through their heat, and all articles pointed out how exhausting—physically and mentally—it could be in the two weeks leading up to their cycle. With Kyungsoo forcing himself out of the house for at least 12 hours a day, Jongin’s worried he’s overexerting himself.

The door abruptly swings forward, pitching Jongin forward before he gathers himself again. Standing before him is a sleep-mussed Kyungsoo, his hair sticking up oddly at the back and a small frown marring the softness of his face. He’s not wearing his glasses, and Jongin catches a glimpse of them tossed next to his pillow as haphazardly as usual. 

“What did you mean by ‘second alpha puberty’?” the omega asks, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement pulls his oversized sleep shirt tight against his figure, and Jongin can faintly make out the swells of his chest.

The question throws Jongin off, not expecting his roommate to even acknowledge him at all. “Like, lately my chest feels weirdly achey or fluttery, or like I’m acting p-possessive or something. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. I just feel differently, like I’m not in control of my body,” he stammers out. “Sometimes my thoughts too.”

Kyungsoo scrutinizes him, although Jongin isn’t sure if he’s squinting just because he can’t see clearly without his glasses. “Is this around me only? These feelings? Or around everyone else?”

Jongin hesitates in answering. Truth be told, he’s only been feeling this way around Kyungsoo. Something about the smaller boy triggers all these strange hiccupy feelings inside of him, and he doesn’t understand why. 

But he doesn’t want to scare him away.

“Around others too,” Jongin lies. He scratches at his nose, hoping Kyungsoo won’t prod further. “But I promise, I’m working on it. I’m going to figure out what’s happening and I’ll stop it, and I’ll stop acting like a knothead. I promise! I even booked an appointment with the physician on campus for Tuesday.”

Rather than having a comforting effect, Kyungsoo seems to sag instead, weight dragging him down and making him look smaller than he already does. The frown pulls down harder at his lips, but the stony look on his face is replaced with one of disappointment. He sighs. “Good night, Jongin.”

Before the alpha can reply, the door shuts in his face again. Jongin tries to take comfort in the fact that Kyungsoo didn’t slam it shut, instead closing it gently, but it’s not incredibly helpful.

The next morning, Jongin wakes up with the same dread he’s been feeling every morning, and slowly makes his way to the washroom to get ready. To his surprise, he runs into the omega in the kitchen. 

In a mimicry of last week, Kyungsoo is sitting at the small dining table with a mug of coffee in one hand, and his phone in the other. Unlike last time, the alpha remembered to put his glasses on before he left the room, and he can see clearly now. The smaller boy is already dressed in his usual sweatpants and hoodie, although he has puffy vest as his outermost layer. He looks perfectly bundled up.

On a normal day, Jongin would have greeted him, spent as much time as possible with Kyungsoo before they both had to leave, and walked away feeling warm and happy. Today, though, is the first time since their fight that he’s actually been able to see Kyungsoo’s face in the morning. 

The omega looks up from his phone when he hears Jongin’s footsteps coming through the kitchen, and sets his mug down. It feels like a bit of a standoff for a moment, the two of them staring each other without moving. Though Kyungsoo’s expression is unreadable, Jongin is sure that his is filled with trepidation and hope, and he tries to school it back to something a bit more neutral. 

Kyungsoo is the first to break the silence. “Good morning,” he quietly says, before returning his attention back to his phone. 

Surprise rushes through Jongin, and he jumps slightly. “Good morning,” he croaks out, a little confused. He didn’t expect Kyungsoo to stick around this morning, much less willingly talk to him. Their conversation last night, if it could even be called that with how one-sided it was, didn’t have the best ending. 

Perhaps taking pity on Jongin’s sense of loss, Kyungsoo sets his mug down again. “I think I was being unfair to you,” he explains quietly. “I realized last night that I’ve been mad at you for the wrong reason.” Kyungsoo hesitates for a moment, tracing an old coffee stain on the table as he collects his thoughts. “It’s not about you acting like a weird knothead. Though that upset me too, you apologized and you were sincere about it. I know that. But...the other thing, it’s one that I don’t think I can tell you about. I’m...I’m sorry about that too.”

With every ounce of his soul, Jongin wishes he could poke and prod a bit more, extract from Kyungsoo what exactly had upset him. If it wasn’t his dumb alphaness coming out, then it was something else Jongin did, and he still wishes he could fix it. 

More than anything, though, he feels a sense of great relief wash over him. Their friendship isn’t at a lost, not completely. 

He takes a step closer towards the table, towards Kyungsoo, who stares up at him with his round eyes. “I really, really am sorry. You’re so important to me, and it was absolutely my fault. I spoke out of turn, and I should have been more mindful about my words,” says Jongin. His voice is fervent, emotional.

For a brief second, a glimpse of something heavy shutter in the omega’s eyes again, but it’s gone before Jongin can put his finger on it. Just as he’s about to ask about it, the smaller male ducks his head, and nods slowly. “You’re important to me too,” he responds, voice quiet but no less earnest. 

Jongin knows that this will be something he still needs to work on, something he still needs to make up for. A part of him may never forgive himself for making the most important friend in _his life_ cry, but for now, he’s going to keep doing what he can to be the best friend possible for Kyungsoo. For now, that will have to be enough.

* * *

The week flies by quickly, their semesters amping up as they head towards midterms season. He had his doctor’s appointment on Tuesday, where the physician merely gave him a weird look and dismissed him from the clinic. 

“There’s no such thing as a second alpha puberty,” the doctor had said, combing a hair through his grey hair. “The ‘symptoms’-” he raised his hand to make air quotes, which Jongin found terribly unprofessional. “-you’re describing just sounds like a normal physiological reaction when you’re around things you like or dislike. Heightened heartbeat? Feeling flustered?”

Jongin nodded, confirming the symptoms.

“Yep. Nothing wrong with you. In fact, I’d say you’re working exactly as you should be.”

(Jongin had left feeling dissatisfied and disheartened. He didn’t see how his suddenly strong reactions towards Kyungsoo was a normal physiological reaction when he didn’t feel this way when he was twelve and _actually_ going through alpha puberty.) 

When Friday finally comes, Jongin is ready to burst out at the seams with how _done_ he is with the week.

The schedule is even more grueling for Kyungsoo, who has been trying his hardest to get as much school work done in advance of his heat, knowing he would have to take at least a full week off from classes.

Excused or not, universities never accommodate for absences. 

After their brief conversation in the kitchen, Jongin was hoping that things would reset back to normal, but he isn’t surprised when it doesn’t. Not immediately at least. Their conversations continue at a beleaguering pace, stilted and awkward in a way they had never been before, but Jongin knows they—Kyungsoo—are still healing from their fight. As long as it means that they are both trying, Jongin will never run out of patience while working on their friendship. Kyungsoo means too much for him for anything else. 

At this point, he’s just glad that Kyungsoo is willing to talk to him at all.

What he’s not glad for, however, is how the alpha symptoms seem to get even _worse_ as the week drags on. Jongin had done some research earlier and concluded that this couldn’t have been influenced from Kyungsoo’s upcoming heat—apparently, those in proximity to an omega in preheat would only feel a sense of attraction if they were already attracted to the omega, and often only if they held an intimate connection to them. Otherwise, it should have no affect on you. 

Which, to Jongin, rules out any possible reason why he couldn’t stop noticing Kyungsoo even _more_ now. Attracted to Kyungsoo? The thought passes through his mind, and he feels a slight twinge in his chest, but he discards the idea as easily as it came. It can’t be. That’s his best friend. 

But to make matters worse, once Kyungsoo hits the latest stages of preheat, his body begin its final preparations for a heat. There are some aspects that Jongin tries to help out with: bringing more food to Kyungsoo when he could since the omega would burn energy fast once his heat hits, and giving his comfier hoodies to drown Kyungsoo in, keeping his body cozy as it struggles to preserve warmth. 

Those are easy. Jongin doesn’t mind making his friend more happy, even when he feels tired or cold himself. It’s always worth it to see Kyungsoo smile, no matter how fragile it still is. 

What is difficult for Jongin, then, is when he notices the way Kyungsoo’s chest must have started feeling more and more tender as it continues to swell for his heat. 

Since Wednesday, Kyungsoo has been rubbing at his chest. It’s an absent minded action, not one that he seems to be putting any thought towards. He gets a certain look on his face, a slight furrowing of brows and pursing of lips, that Jongin can’t quite decipher whether it aches or if it feels _good_. 

Each time it happens, his eyes automatically zone in on the way the omega first starts to gently press down on the outer swell of his breast, just barely discernible through whichever baggy top Kyungsoo is wearing that day, before he cups them gently in his palm. Once the shorter male realizes what he’s doing, an embarrassed flush burns on his face and ears, and he sneaks a glance towards Jongin to see if he noticed. Graciously, Jongin always looks away before then.

It drives Jongin absolutely wild. More than once, he finds himself wondering how they would fill his own palm, which are surely much larger than Kyungsoo’s. 

By Friday, the alpha feels ready to burst at the seam, and he asks Yixing if he wants to grab a bite after their dance practice. Both too lazy to travel far, they decide to head over to Jongdae’s cafe. 

The familiar bell tinkles overhead when they push through the door, and the barista at the counter greets them warmly. It’s later in the day, closer to dinner time now, and the cafe is nearly empty. Jongdae isn’t anywhere in sight, and Jongin assumes he’s not working the shift tonight.

Jongin glances around the cafe. Then golden warmth of the setting sun casts a glow across the cafe, basking the interiors in amber hues. There’s only one other person in the cafe besides the barista, and it looks like they’re ready to leave. Sitting by the large, glass window along the back of _Love Cherry Cafe_ is the other alpha. Yixing has two mugs set on the table, but he’s leaning against his chair and his eyes are closed. 

“Boo!” Jongin sneaks up on him, poking the back of Yixing’s neck. The other alpha startles, sliding from his chair with a yelp. It attracts the attention of the barista and the other patron, who look over. Flushing, Jongin nods in apology at them before sitting across from Yixing. 

The other alpha is frowning. “Not cool,” he grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, but he pushes the second mug towards Jongin anyway.

Jongin accepts the mug with a grateful smile. It looks like tea, and a quick sip confirms it’s barley tea. The warmth seeps into his skin, the chill from the outside quickly dissipating. “Thanks, Yixing.”

“Seems like you needed it. You’ve been looking kinda out of it lately, man.”

Jongin winces. His behaviour _has_ been affecting practice. The choreographer had looked annoyed with Jongin earlier, and even asked him to take a five minute break to ‘clear his head.’ It’s something that has never happened before, letting his personal life get in the way of dance. 

At first, he was just going to go home and simmer in his own disappointment. Being the good friend he is, Yixing had pulled Jongin to the side after practice ended.

“Is everything okay?” he had said. The genuine concern in his eyes had stopped Jongin in his tracks, and had him sighing.

“I don’t know,” Jongin had confessed.

Yixing had studied him, looking worried. “I mean it when I say I’m here if you need someone to talk to.” With a bit of hesitation, Jongin had asked if he was free for the evening.

Now at the cafe, Yixing is looking over at him with the same concern again. He takes a sip from his own mug, setting it down with a light thud, before speaking with a hushed, comforting voice. “I don’t mean to push,” he starts. “But do you want to talk about whatever’s been bothering you?”

Biding his time, Jongin swallows down more tea. A droplet slides down the mug, and he wipes it neatly with a napkin. He sighs. He’s been doing that a lot lately. “I guess I’ve just been kinda confused lately?”

“About what?” asks Yixing.

Slumping back in his chair, Jongin throws a hand over his eyes. “Like, I’ve been feeling weird lately. I even went to see a doctor earlier this week because I thought I might be going through some weird alpha thing again.”

“A weird alpha thing?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, like you know how we get irritable and our hormones go all haywire when we go through alpha puberty? It’s been like that.”

Yixing hums in thought. “I don’t know if a _second_ puberty is a thing that exists. It kinda defeats the notion of what puberty even is, you know?” The _learn some basic biology_ goes unspoken.

“Yeah.” Jongin sighs again. “I know. It’s stupid. But I can’t think of any other explanation for how I’ve been feeling lately. My brain’s been a mess.”

“Okay, wait. Let’s back up a bit here,” says Yixing. “What exactly have you been feeling lately?”

He takes a few moments to gather his thoughts, parsing through the past two weeks. “Like...unsettled? Jittery? Kinda like when I drink beer and my heart rate just shoots through the roof and I instantly turn red, and then it takes ages for my body to calm down.” 

The other alpha nods in understanding. Neither of them are particularly good with alcohol; it causes some sort of allergic reaction in them if they drink too much. “And is this triggered by anything in particular?”

Here, Jongin hesitates. It’s what he hasn’t had the courage to voice out yet. “Kyungsoo,” he answers. He can’t help but feel a sense of guilt that his best friend has been stirring up some strange reactions from him, but even more than that, he feels a bit of relief to finally tell someone. “I only feel this way around Kyungsoo.”

It takes a few moments for Yixing to respond, staring at Jongin with shocked silence. “Kyungsoo?” he echoes. 

Jongin nods. 

“You only feel this way about Kyungsoo?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I feel so bad too, it’s been making me act so _off_ around him.”

The other’s eyes brighten up in understanding. “Okay, okay, wait a second here. Let me just confirm a few things first. You feel your heart rate accelerate around Kyungsoo?”

“Yeah.”

“And you get flustered? Like you can’t think properly when you’re around them?”

“Yeah, exactly that.”

Yixing gives him an inscrutable look. “When we saw Kyungsoo with his friend the other day, you looked upset. What was that about?”

“I—” again, Jongin hesitates. He feels stupid voicing this aloud. “I don’t know, the other guy just bothered me. We...we actually ended up having a fight, kinda, over that guy? It was my fault, but um. Anyway, it just felt like he was _too_ close to Kyungsoo for someone who just met him, you know?”

“Has there been anything else?”

The alpha thinks about the way his eyes seemed to be drawn, like magnets, to Kyungsoo every time he’s in the room. “And I keep focusing on everything he does, like when he wakes up and his hair is all ruffled and he looks sleepy. Or when he laughs and his eyes crinkle and his mouth blooms into a heart shape. That’s when it’s the worst, that fluttery, nervous feeling in my chest.”

Across from him, Yixing gives him another weird look.

“Sometimes I catch myself just staring at him too. Lately, I’ve just been...I don’t know. I just want to be close to him at all times, you know? And just—oh my god. Oh my god. Jesus. Fuck.” His eyes widen and his jaw drops. “Yixing, oh my god. I think. I think I’m in love with him.”

The realization hits him like a ton of bricks. He’s in love. He’s in love with his best friend. It’s why he can’t stop thinking about him, can’t stop wanting to see his smile, can’t stop wanting to just be near him. It’s why he was so hostile around Seonho—because he was fucking _jealous_.

“Holy shit,” Jongin breathes out. His heartbeat has tripled—no, quadrupled. “I’m fucking in love with him.” He looks at Yixing with wide eyes in disbelief, but the other alpha doesn’t seem too surprised.

“It took you this long to realize it?” he asks. His voice is a mixture of amusement and incredulity, like he can’t believe Jongin is this stupid.

“Yeah, I—yeah. Holy shit.” He scrubs a hand through his hair, the action a little frenetic. It catches Yixing’s attention, and he drops the incredulous look on his face.

“Hey,” he says, and Jongin forces himself to focus on him again. “You okay there?”

He nods rapidly. “Yeah, I think,” he says, but his breath comes out a little uneven. “Just. Um. I never thought about this before?”

Yixing looks like he doesn’t believe him. “Seriously? Never?”

“Yeah,” he says again. “Like, for the longest time, Kyungsoo is the kid I grew up with. I still remember the time I asked if he wanted a ‘dinosaur tattoo’ when we were 8 years old and I bit him on the arm when he said yes.” Kyungsoo didn’t talk to him for a whole week after that incident. “Sure, he’s cute—but he’s always been cute to me.” Jongin pauses for a moment. “And...and I think...I just never wanted to be _that_ alpha to him. A creep, or something.”

And it’s true. Ever since he found out about Kyungsoo’s bullying, he has always tried to be aware of his actions and how it could affect people around him as an alpha, if what he does is unwanted or creepy or gross alpha behaviour. It’s partly what made their ‘fight’ so horrifying to them both—at least for Jongin.

The thought of Kyungsoo finding him disgusting or creepy is one that terrifies him. He doesn’t want the omega to think he’s been secretly perving on him this whole time, not when Kyungsoo trusts him and they live together. But that’s kind of what he’s been doing, hasn’t he? Pining away at him helplessly like some idiot.

And then it’s with that, that Jongin realizes that this is _feeling_ is something he’s known all along. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew what he was feeling.

There’s really no other explanation why he would feel so drawn to Kyungsoo, so obviously and clearly attracted to him. All those times he repressed his thoughts, forced himself to look elsewhere—it was him denying something he _didn’t_ want to be aware of. Something that would change how he saw the omega, their friendship, and their relationship utterly and irrevocably.

He’s in love with Do Kyungsoo.

Yixing smiles sympathetically and reaches over to pat him on the shoulder. He must sense the tension emanating from Jongin in waves. “I think you should talk to him,” he suggests. “I don’t think he’d think you were a creep.”

Doubt sweeps through Jongin’s mind. “I don’t know...”

“If you’ve been acting as weird as you’ve been telling me, then there’s no way Kyungsoo hasn’t noticed. You said there was a fight? I think if you talk to him about this, it might clear up some of how you’ve been acting for him too,” Yixing says. 

It sounds logical, and Jongin knows he’s right. It doesn’t mean he have to like it though—the very thought of telling Kyungsoo terrifies him. Especially so close to his heat...he doesn’t want Kyungsoo to think he’s trying to take advantage of him or anything. 

“He deserves to know too,” Yixing continues. “And you never know what he may say. Just think about it.”

Anxiety racks his brain. With some reluctance, he agrees. “I’ll think about it,” Jongin compromises.  
The bus ride home is one that Jongin barely even remembers. Thoughts about Kyungsoo, and then about _himself and_ Kyungsoo bounce around tirelessly in his mind, enveloping his thoughts entirely. 

It’s like a dam has broken, and now all he can think about is how beautiful Kyungsoo really is, how small his hands are, how well they fit into his own palm. For a brief moment, he wonders if maybe Kyungsoo returns his feelings at all. He presses a hand against his chest, and marvels at the fluttering of his heartbeat. Just the thought of Kyungsoo’s sweet smile and fond look in his eyes is enough to get his heart rate accelerating. 

But each time a sense of warmth fills his soul and makes him want to start singing or dancing right there on the bus, or something godforsaken like that, cold dread pours down on him when he remembers the complications his feelings introduce. 

Jongin pictures how the moment could go if he were to confess. He imagines the way Kyungsoo’s eyes would turn cold, a mask slamming in place of his usually open, kind face.

“What?” he would say, an echo of his reaction when Jongin suggested Seonho as a heat partner. “You like me?” Then the omega’s lips would curl into a disgusted snarl. The contempt would be barely disguised on his face. “You’re a fucking creep, Jongin.”

A voice in his mind that sounds suspiciously like Yixing interrupts his thoughts with _you’re overthinking things. Kyungsoo loves you, even if only as a friend. He would never react like that_.

Feeling a little like he’s going crazy, Jongin waffles on how he should approach Kyungsoo, if he should talk to him about this at all and if so, if he should wait until after his heat or not. 

It feels like it takes only mere minutes before the bus deposits him in front of their shared apartment, and Jongin is no closer to an answer. As he slowly climbs the few sets of stairs to their home, he decides brusquely that he will tell Kyungsoo the truth. Not to pressure him for his heat, but because Yixing is right—he does deserve to know why Jongin has been acting so shady. 

Still, it surprises him when he opens the door and sees the light in the living room is turned on, and the hushed volume of the tv. As he toes off his shoes and kicks them toward the wall to clear the foyer, he makes out the hunched figure of Kyungsoo sitting on the couch. He’s small enough that the back of the couch nearly hides him completely. Only the back of his head and the top of his tiny shoulders are visible. 

At the sound of Jongin’s shoes colliding with the wall, Kyungsoo turns around, eyes wide and curious. “Jongin?” he calls out.

“It’s me,” the alpha replies. His voice is surprisingly stable, and he inwardly congratulates himself on sounding collected, even if he feels a bit like a mess right now. He’s shrouded in the shadows, having kept the lights off when he entered.

“Did you kick off your shoes again? I told you not to do that. What if you damage the walls and we have to pay the deposit when we move out?” It’s a diatribe that Jongin has heard many times before, and it’s the closest to normal they’ve been since last week. The use of _we_ is heartening, and he feels the tiniest bit more courageous. 

"Sorry, sorry," he apologizes, just like how he usually would have done. The routine lets him move through the motions, his mind still grappling with how to approach Kyungsoo. Steeling his resolve, he walks up towards the couch. Better to rip off the bandaid than to let it fester. 

"Hey, Kyungsoo?" he hedges. 

On the couch, Kyungsoo has turned his body entirely so that he's kneeling on the cushion, elbows resting on the back of the sofa to face Jongin. The shorter male is biting his lip, and Jongin notices the white knuckled, tight grip he has on the cracked leather.

"Hey," he says. There's a subtle tremor in his voice, and the sudden heel-turn in emotion throws Jongin aback. "Sorry to not give you any time to settle down—I know you just got home...I was wondering if we could maybe talk?"

His question comes as a surprise to the alpha, who wasn’t expecting Kyungsoo to initiate a conversation. Feeling a little underfoot, Jongin stammers out a “yeah, sure” and hastily drops his backpack on the ground and pads around the couch so he’s facing it instead. Kyungsoo’s still chewing on his lip nervously, his plump bottom lip turning red and swollen, but his motions are steady when he pats the sofa cushion next to him to signal for Jongin to sit next to him.

Without hesitation, Jongin settles down lightly next to the omega, who then turns to face him. He’s sitting criss-crossed, something that strikes Jongin as endearing. He can’t do that on the couch without getting his limbs everywhere, his own legs are far too long to sit like that with one other person on the couch. 

“I...” Jongin starts, but then falters. Resolutely, he shakes his head and tries again. “I actually wanted to talk to you too. If you had time.”

Kyungsoo looks slightly alarmed, but he nods nonetheless. His face is still distraught, and the taller male can’t help but start fidgeting a little. Jongin has no idea where the conversation is heading, and besides the anxiety emanating from the omega, he can’t get a good read on how his roommate is feeling. He picks at his nails—a habit he picked up from Kyungsoo—as he nervously waits for what Kyungsoo has to say. 

“Um,” Kyungsoo stutters. “Do you want to go first?”

The tension feels suffocating all of a sudden, and Jongin nearly says yes to get _something_ out, but he wants to know what Kyungsoo wants to say. Shaking his head, he gestures at Kyungsoo to keep going.

“Okay, well, um. This past week, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I feel like it wasn’t fair for me to spring the news about my heat on you, and then about wanting a heat partner without any warning. I wanted to apologize to you for that,” Kyungsoo explains, hands fidgeting in his lap. 

“No, that’s not your fault at all.” The alpha shakes his head. “And um, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about too. But you go first.”

The other man hesitates again, chewing on his bottom lip. “I still want to apologize. I think I made things awkward between us, and that’s my fault. You’re my best friend Jongin, and you’re incredibly important to me.” His words are comforting to Jongin, and his hopes soar high after hearing them. Even if Kyungsoo only means it platonically, it gives him the confidence that at least he wouldn’t be shunned if he were to confess. “No one could ever replace you, and I feel so, _so_ bad that I put you in a position to accept or reject me last week.”

The words _accept or reject_ roll around in Jongin’s mind, and he opens his mouth to ask about it, but Kyungsoo continues speaking.

“I just wanted to fix everything between us, and make it clear that I want to prioritize our relationship over my feelings—” 

Feelings? The back of his neck starts tingling in excitement, an onset of happiness settling in. He can feel that the corner of his lips are starting to curve upwards, helpless to stop it as he takes in what he thinks Kyungsoo is trying to say. There must have been a misunderstanding somewhere, if Kyungsoo thinks there’s anything to _fix_ if he has feelings for Jongin. A misunderstanding that Jongin created, but he’ll just confess and they can make their feelings for each other clear, and—

“—so that’s why I decided to listen to your suggestion and um. I’m going to take Seonho as my heat partner.” 

At first, Jongin thinks that maybe he heard wrong. But then he processes the words that just escaped from Kyungsoo’s mouth, expelled like the omega was trying to spit them out, and it’s like a record scratching to a sudden stop. The room feels deathly still except for the sound of their breathing. Jongin’s mind sputters as he mulls over what Kyungsoo just said, his heart rising to an insane beat, the blood thrumming his ears. 

Seonho. He wants to take Seonho as his heat partner.

All of a sudden, it feels like there’s a pair of sharp claws scratching in his insides, and he feels his face burning. There’s that weird ache in his chest again, gouging him from inside out, but this time, he knows what that feeling is.

If there was any doubt before that he wasn’t in love with Kyungsoo, those doubts are completely erased now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed the chapter! everyone who guessed the friend was seonho is amazing...i wonder how you got it? the next chapter will be a wrap up and promised heat sex...and non-heat sex :3c i haven't written smut in awhile and i've missed it, so the next chapter will hopefully be a similar length to these two...but almost entirely smut.
> 
> let me know what you think! all comments and kudos are highly appreciated! it really brightens up my day to read your responses
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/sooblushes) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/sooblushes)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...i lied about there being only 3 chapters for this fic ><...and the heat sex will be in the _next_ chapter. i promise, this time!
> 
> still, a brief warning: explicit content ahead!

_”I’m going to take Seonho as my heat partner.”_

The words echo in Jongin’s mind, his rapid heartbeat pounding so loud that he almost misses Kyungsoo’s next words.

“He came up to me yesterday after class and um. He offered. I just—well, I didn’t have much of a reason for saying no. He’s not an alpha, which makes me feel better because I don’t think I could trust any alpha besides—well, anyway. I thought you should know.” The omega’s voice grows quieter, finishing his sentence almost imperceptibly. His impossibly wide eyes are staring up at Jongin, but not quite making eye contact, instead grazing over at his cheek or the slope of his chin. In his lap, his fingers are fidgeting again, and an ache blooms in his chest, along with the desire to catch those hands in his, still them, and hold them.

But he does none of that. Next to him, Kyungsoo’s eyes flit nervously around the room and then on his face again, as if studying Jongin’s expression. He doesn’t know what kind of expression he’s making. His heart is still thumping wildly. He can’t think. He could hardly hear himself.

“Jongin?” Kyungsoo prompts.

“I,” Jongin starts. But he doesn’t know how to continue.

In that moment, Jongin realizes he never truly considered what it would be like for Kyungsoo to want someone else, someone _specific_. Someone that’s not him. 

As a friend, he wants to rush to comfort Kyungsoo, to smile and laugh and tease him about finding a boy for his heat. Jab an elbow into his side, ask him if he should clear out of his place so that him and Seonho can spend his heat in peace. 

But as much as Jongin tries to muster the strength to smile it off, he finds that he can’t. The thought of another man in his space, _with Kyungsoo_ makes his blood curdle. His chest feels bruised, battered. And even like this, with his heart ripping into two, the alpha still can’t help but notice the heat of Kyungsoo’s body seeping through the sweaters and soft sleep tees, imprinting itself like a burn on Jongin’s skin. The way he can hear his quiet breathing, coming out in soft puffs. His eyes are large and glassy, expectant and anxious, and for the first time, Jongin notices shadowy dark circles underneath his eyes. Even like this, Jongin can’t help but want to close the distance between them.

“Jongin?” Kyungsoo says again, his soft, hushed voice piercing its way through Jongin’s distracted thoughts. His unruly brows are furrowed, and his pink lips are tilted down in a frown. Almost unnoticeably, his plump bottom lip is jutted out in the barest of pouts. 

His heart spikes, driving up even faster if possible. It’s like all the sound and sights have melted out of the room, because suddenly all he can see is Kyungsoo. All he can think about is Kyungsoo.

_Kyungsoo_ , his roommate, his best friend. The love of his life.

And somehow, the thought of being in love with his oldest friend, the most important person in his life, doesn’t feel so terrifying or wrong anymore.

“I,” Jongin tries again. His brain clumsily tries to pick out the words he wants to say, to calmly express how he doesn’t want Kyungsoo to choose Seonho, that Jongin is sorry that it took him this long, and that he hopes it’s not too late, before he blurts out, “I love you.”

Surprise. Silence. And then a glimpse of sheer, utter _joy_ is reflected on the omega’s face before he stiffens and a rueful look replaces it instead. Kyungsoo draws his shoulders back, and he pulls away from Jongin just slightly. “What?” he asks, his voice breaking on the syllable. 

“I love you, Kyungsoo,” Jongin says again. His heart is pounding in his ears, and it feels like it’s going to leap out of its chest. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say this, to realize this. And I’m sorry I’m saying it now,” he blurts out. He needs to get this out. “I—I won’t stop you if you want to spend your heat with Seonho, but I just. I wanted you to know,” he finishes lamely.

Across from him, Kyungsoo tenses. It feels like a dagger diving straight into his chest when the smaller boy narrows his eyes at him, mouth pursed. “What are you saying, Jongin?”

Jongin takes a deep breath, his fingers clenching the fabric of his pants. “I love you,” he repeats. “I’ve—I’ve been a _fucking_ idiot. I’ve been messing everything up. I’m in love with you, and I was so, _so_ jealous of Seonho when I saw how touchy he was with you, how you would touch him back. I’ve been acting like an asshole, and a moron. I, I might be too late in saying this now, but I’m so sorry. I love you.“ He chokes on the last word. “I want to be with you.”

A sound escapes from Kyungsoo, a strange, strangled noise. “Why are you saying this now?” he asks, shaking his head in utter disbelief. There’s a hurt blooming in the smaller boy’s eyes now, his small frame locked tensely as he eyes Jongin with trepidation. 

Unable to to help himself, Jongin gives into temptation and takes Kyungsoo’s hands in his, just lightly, resting in the other’s lap to give him the option to disentangle their fingers if he needs to. It hasn’t been that long since they held hands, only a full week, back when they went Kyungsoo took him to the Ahn Sungsoo performance—and _oh god_ it was a _date_ , wasn’t it, he’s such a fucking _idiot_ —but it feels like forever ago. 

“I’ve been so far stuck up in my own alpha ass, about how the weird fluttery feeling I get around you and how much I just want to be close with you was all because of some alpha instinct,” Jongin explains, the words coming out slowly and hesitantly. Kyungsoo’s face is unreadable, and he trudges on bravely. “It took me an entire conversation with Yixing to even realize that all of these things I’ve been feeling is because I’m in love with you. I am so in love with you, Kyungsoo.” 

The fight leaves Kyungsoo suddenly, body wilting against the overly plush cushions. He looks tired, and Jongin feels guilt etching away at him for being a source of stress for him. But he leaves his hand loosely clasped in Jongin’s, even if he doesn’t touch Jongin back.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo says. He can tell that the omega is modulating his voice now in the way he does when he’s on stage, or when he needs to keep a tight control on his emotions. When he’s on the verge of shutting down. “I’ve been in love with you since we were teenagers. I have always been in love with you.” Before Jongin’s heart can start to sing, Kyungsoo wills himself on. “But you have never once shown any interest in me beyond friendship, and what happened last week when I tried asking you to spend my heat with me—that hammered _that_ fact home to me. I don’t know what’s happening in your head, or if Seonho is just getting under your skin for some reason, but you don’t get to suddenly choose me when you pushed me away for so long.”

He pauses, sucking in a deep breath. Jongin opens his mouth to argue, but the look the omega shoots him has him closing it again. “I...You can’t just do this to me, Jongin. I feel like I’ve been throwing myself at you, ripping my heart open and exposing my feelings for you, and you’ve been shutting it out. And, and all of a sudden—this, confessing to me. You can’t do this to me. I don’t want you to break my heart again.”

“I’m sorry,” Jongin repeats, brokenly. His heart is still thumping loud in his ears, and his breath stutters. He feels like he’s stuck on the train tracks, or something, and he’s trying to race against time as he tries to conveys how genuinely sorry he is, how much he wishes he could take all his past stubbornness back. “I’m sorry, Kyungsoo. I’m really, _really_ sorry. I had no idea how you felt, I promise. I didn’t mean to push and pull you around like that, but I did, and I’m so sorry.”

When the other boy keeps his expression steady and neutral, Jongin forges on. “I just. I know it’s too late, and I’m still reflecting on how I’ve been behaving. I want to make it up to you, however I can. But I like you. I love you so much,” he whispers. To his horror, he feels his eyes get misty, and he sniffles. 

It takes a second, and a fraction more, before Kyungsoo wilts a little more, and the remaining stiffness in his posture seeps out. The expression in his face melts. One arm comes up to cover his face, and Jongin makes a small noise, worried that he’s hurt the omega again somehow—before he feels Kyungsoo turning his slender hand in his so that their fingers are laced together. He squeezes.

“I love you too,” Kyungsoo says. His voice is gentle, and his hand is even softer when he rubs his thumb over Jongin’s knuckles. The gesture is comforting, and Jongin clings to the touch.

The smaller boy shifts closer towards him again, the warmth of his skin diffusing to Jongin’s once more. It’s a welcome warmth, and hope sparks in his chest at the gesture. 

“I need to know if you’re serious,” Kyungsoo says. His gaze has softened, but remains its steadfastness. I can’t do— _this_ —if you’re not serious. I can’t put myself through that.“

Jongin squeezes at his hand, his fingers trembling. “I’m serious. I’m serious about you, Kyungsoo. About us. I want us to work, and I’m going to work hard for it. I promise.”

At that, Kyungsoo offers him a shaky smile. His eyes search for something in Jongin’s, and perhaps he found what he was looking for, because in the next second he tucks his face in the curve of Jongin’s neck and sighs out a soft breath.

With the smaller boy’s breath against his skin, Jongin feels his neck prickling red and his heart picking up once again in a staccato beat. He shifts his arms to wrap around the omega, squeezing him tightly against him. Nuzzling his chin against the soft, mussed strands of Kyungsoo’s hair, he presses a gentle kiss to the crown of his head.

They stay like that for a few moments, pressed tightly together, hearts beating in tangent. Jongin thinks that he could stay like this forever, sharing space with Kyungsoo. It’s almost terrifying how utterly in love he feels, his heart so full it could burst.

“Hey,” Jongin whispers. “I like you.” 

Kyungsoo tilts his face up. “I like you too,” he whispers back, and Jongin helplessly traces his eyes over the cute curve of his cheeks, the round tip of his nose, and the way his ears stick out just a little. His lips look soft, kissable, and his stomach flutters at the thought of doing so. 

And so he does. 

Jongin fits his palm against the curve of Kyungsoo’s cheek, before sliding down to cup his chin gently. He tilts Kyungsoo’s head up just slightly further. “Can I kiss you?” he asks.

He waits for Kyungsoo to nod shyly before he leans down towards him. Kyungsoo meets him halfway, wrapping his arms around Jongin’s neck and pulling himself up. Their lips slot together gently, simply. It’s not an extravagant kiss, and it’s not heedy. But despite its simplicity, it feels _right_. It feels _perfect_. There’s an emotional intensity to it, with their bodies and hearts pressed together, pounding together. As close as they are like this, Jongin can smell the sweeter earthy scent of Kyungsoo even stronger, and its familiarity makes his heart sing. Kyungsoo tastes like everything and nothing that Jongin has expected—hints of caffeine, and sweets that Kyungsoo probably sneakily ate before Jongin came home, and something that’s just so uniquely, perfectly Kyungsoo. 

They stay pressed together, like they were made to breathe the same air, made to fit together, until Jongin feels an even stronger urge to see the omega’s face again. Pulling back, Jongin drinks in the shadows cast by Kyungsoo’s fluttering eyelashes on the rosy glow of his cheeks. The other boy looks angelic like this, and Jongin can’t help himself when he presses a chaste, sweet kiss on Kyungsoo’s forehead. When Kyungsoo breaks into a small smile, a helpless grin toying at the corner of his lips, it sparks a sort of electricity in him that makes him feel flushed. 

With Kyungsoo’s arms still clinging around him, Jongin rubs at the soft skin on the slope of Kyungsoo’s chin with his thumb and pulls him closer. “I want to be your lover,” Jongin says. To his delight, Kyungsoo burns redder at the sudden comment. “I want to be your boyfriend. I want to be there for your heat—but only if you’ll have me.”

Kyungsoo squeezes his eyes shut, and nods. There’s no hesitation in it. “I want you,” he says, voice trembling, but sure. “If you’ll have me too, I want you.”

Jongin doesn’t need to think twice before he swoops in for a second kiss. The air around them feels like it has thickened with a new sort of tension, something heated and much less chaste than their previous kiss. He catches Kyungsoo’s face in his palm, and pours all his emotions into their kiss. The hands around his neck shift upwards, and slide into his hair with an unmatched fervor, and _pulls_. Jongin lets out a groan when he feels Kyungsoo drag his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling gently, and the alpha licks at the seam of his lips as if asking for permission. It’s terrifying how much it feels like he’s pouring into this kiss, into the sweet slide of their tongues, how frantic and _emotional_ it feels—but Jongin embraces it. He leans into it, his connection with Kyungsoo, and drags Kyungsoo closer until he’s settled in his lap. It’s a welcome weight.

They kiss until they’re both breathless, panting for air. The soft sighs and quiet moans escaping from the omega’s mouth shoots straight to his groin, and he shifts Kyungsoo in his lap, tugging him closer. The easy, pliant way the other boy lets himself be moved does _something_ to Jongin, and pleasure pools in his lower region. When they finally pull apart, Kyungsoo’s lips are shiny with spit, rosy, and bitten-swollen. His scent has thickened to a cloying, pine-tree scent that has Jongin wanting to bury his face in his neck.

The other boy isn’t unaffected either. On top of his lap, Kyungsoo is trembling slightly as he clings to Jongin, hands still buried in his hair. He can make out the slight bulge in the omega’s sweatpants, but even if he couldn’t, the tell-tale shifting of his hips as he grinds just slightly against Jongin’s thigh would give it away. If he were to press a hand against the back of Kyungsoo’s pants, he would feel how damp the omega has become, all slick before they’ve really done anything. Distantly, Jongin wonders if he can smell his natural alpha musk as strongly as he can smell Kyungsoo’s scent. He wonders if it affects him differently now, that he’s close to his heat.

But despite how badly Jongin wants this, how badly _Kyungsoo_ wants this, he wants to do it right. Maybe it’s a little archaic of him, a little backwards—but after nearly fucking up their relationship in all the ways he would regret by being so fucking stubborn, Jongin wants to make sure Kyungsoo knows he’s serious, that he’s in love with him, and that he’s not just thinking with his knot.

Resting his forehead against Kyungsoo’s, Jongin leans in for a quick peck on the other’s nose, smiling helplessly when he sees the way the omega scrunches his nose up cutely in response. 

“I want to take you on a date. Before anything else,” Jongin whispers. “I totally fucked up last time, didn’t I? When you took me to see Ahn Sungsoo and I acted like a complete child when we ran into Seonho.”

At that, Kyungsoo frowns but doesn’t pull away. “I couldn’t understand why you were acting so weird that night until you stood outside my door and basically told me you were jealous.”

A metaphoric light bulb switches on in his head. “Is that why you asked me if I felt this way around everyone? When I was babbling about alpha puberty or something—which, by the way, I really did go to the doctor for. He told me I was a dumbass.”

Even with the slight downturn of his lips, Kyungsoo lets out a little giggle—the quiet laugh where he bites down on his lip, and his eyes turn into crescents as he tries to stifle the giggles from escaping. And because he can now, Jongin sneaks a sweet kiss to the corner of Kyungsoo’s pouty mouth, and smiles in satisfaction when the downturned lips quirk upwards instead.

“Yeah. When you said you felt that way around everyone, and you started using _alpha puberty_ as an excuse, I just assumed you knew how I felt about you and you were giving me a shitty excuse of a rejection. Everyone knows a second alpha puberty isn’t a thing.” There’s enough lingering hurt in his eyes that has a painful ache blooming in Jongin’s heart, and he wraps Kyungsoo up in his arms. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, petting the soft skin of the nape of his neck. He feels Kyungsoo shiver from the touch. “I really was just being a dumbass. I didn’t know, I promise. Please let me take you out? I want to treat you properly this time.”

Kyungsoo nods his head, a little shakily, and he presses a trembling kiss to the side of Jongin’s face. “I would like that,” he says. “It’s my bad too—I didn’t actually _say_ anything. I wasn’t clear. I was too scared.”

“Me too, I think,” Jongin confesses. “But we’re here now. And we’ll go on a date.”

“Just one?”

The teasing lilt in the other’s voice makes him grin. “A million more. You won’t be able to get rid of me now.”

The shy, joyous grin that answers him is so bright, so _beautiful_ that it has Jongin swooping back in for yet another kiss. And when they go to bed later in that night—much, much later—Jongin falls asleep with the biggest smile on his face.

* * *

In between hushed kisses and warm embraces before they fell asleep last night—in their separate rooms, because Jongin was adamant about going on a date before anything else and he wasn’t sure if they would manage that if they slept in the same bed—Kyungsoo had explained that his heat is expected to hit either Tuesday or Wednesday. If Jongin wanted to take him out on a date before then, it would have to be over the weekend. 

It only gave him a day to prepare and plan for the date, having decided on Sunday as the day they would go out despite it cutting it a bit too close to Kyungsoo’s heat. The other boy offered to plan, or at least help Jongin with planning, but Jongin refused. Kyungsoo had put so much effort into researching dance groups and securing tickets, and the alpha had nearly ruined the whole day. As far as Jongin was concerned, the omega deserved every pampering he could get.

While Kyungsoo runs last minute errands on Saturday to make sure he’s all stocked up for his heat, Jongin gets to work. 

(He staunchly refuses to think about the kinds of heat aids that Kyungsoo might be preparing for, knowing Jongin won’t be rutting and probably won’t be able to keep up. This time, it’s not because he’s trying to repress his feelings, but because he’s afraid he’ll pop a knot on the spot if he pictures Kyungsoo going sex toy shopping.)

He knows the Suwon Theatre Festival is happening that weekend, and that some members of the dance team would be attending to watch the D-Construction, a popular street dance group’s, performance. After pulling a few strings and a lot of begging, Jongin manages to buy Yixing’s tickets off of him.

(“I would call it extortion,” Yixing retorts. 

“But I was so polite! I said thank you, didn’t I?” Jongin replies. Nonetheless, he makes a mental note to treat Yixing to something extra nice after Kyungsoo’s heat.)

When Sunday rolls around, Jongin wakes up early feeling refreshed. There’s a skim of nervousness that makes his stomach churn a little, and the palpitations of his heart beats against his ribcage. It lasts up until he steps out from the washroom, contacts in and hair trussed to attempted perfection, and spots Kyungsoo at the sink washing the dishes. 

Unlike his usual athleisure attire, Kyungsoo is wearing a loose red v-neck tucked neatly into a pair of tight dark jeans with rips at the knees. It’s a simple outfit, something that Kyungsoo probably bought ages ago at _UNIQLO_ when there was a sale on their cotton shirts, but Jongin still swallows thickly when he notices the way his plush thighs fill out the jeans. There’s a black bomber jacket folded neatly over one of the dining chairs, next to Kyungsoo’s worn brown backpack. It’s rare to see Kyungsoo exposed like this, and he somehow looks even smaller without all the layers on him.

Jongin’s heart flutters when he realizes that the other boy has dressed up for their date. It’s hard getting him to wear anything but sweaters and sweatpants during the winter, and his chest feels warm at Kyungsoo’s effort. It’s horribly endearing, and like so many days before when he last saw Kyungsoo with his back to him, washing dishes in the sink, Jongin is hit with the irresistible urge to envelope him in his arms. 

Unlike the previous time, when Jongin was still oblivious to what those feelings meant, he doesn’t even try to repress those feelings. With a few quick steps towards the omega, Jongin wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s front and presses close to him. 

He had forgotten how sensitive his chest must be, so close to his heat, and warmth erupts on his face when Kyungsoo jumps, startled, and lets out a strangled noise when Jongin’s arm grazes against the sensitive skin. Underneath his arm, his chest is plumper than Jongin had imagined, and he blushes furiously as he shifts his arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulder instead—a much more appropriate position. 

“You startled me,” Kyungsoo croaks out, his voice strangled. Still, he leans back against Jongin as he turns off the tap. The rushing of water stops. Standing this close together, Jongin can hear Kyungsoo breathing quicken.

“Sorry,” Jongin says, not at all sorry even as he fights down the blush. He noses against Kyungsoo’s neck, tracing the soft, pale skin of his neck with a trail of kisses. Kyungsoo lets out a shiver.

The shorter boy turns around fully, and Jongin lets his arms fall from his shoulders to instead wrap around his waist. Now that Kyungsoo is facing Jongin, it’s apparent that his body is ready for his heat. Without all the layers to hide him, the alpha can make out the soft swells of his chest, and the way it rises and falls with every breath. It’s not very big, not even an A-cup, but it’s unmistakably an omega’s chest. His breath hitches when he notices the fabric rising slightly, his nipples peaked either from the cool air of their apartment, or even worse (better?) yet, from Jongin’s accidental brushing.

He forcibly pulls himself away from his thoughts when the smaller boy speaks up. “Can I get a good morning kiss?” Kyungsoo asks, his hands twisting the fabric of Jongin’s shirt where he’s clutching at him. His cheeks are red—whether from his shy request, or from the way Jongin is blatantly ogling him, he isn’t sure.

In lieu of answering, Jongin leans down towards Kyungsoo’s face. Obligingly, Kyungsoo leans up on his tiptoes to meet him in the middle, but Jongin stops at the last second and presses his lips against the tip of Kyungsoo’s button nose instead, pulling back teasingly. When Kyungsoo punches him weakly in response, he laughs and leans back down, this time kissing him properly on the lips. Drinking in Kyungsoo’s breathy sigh of satisfaction, Jongin pulls him tighter at the waist. 

If he had a choice, Jongin would memorialize this moment forever—the two of them in the golden morning glow. Even in the cold kitchen in their too small and too rundown apartment, it feels just right and he wouldn’t change it for anything else in the world. But they have plans and a train to catch. With reluctance, Jongin pulls back. 

“Ready to go?” he whispers, stroking this thumb in small circles on the small of Kyungsoo’s back. The other boy looks a little dazed, lips already swollen red from their kiss. Jongin can’t help the pride that rushes through him. _He_ made Kyungsoo look like that. Kyungsoo drops down from his tiptoes and nods, murmuring a quiet affirmation. 

They take the Line 1 train together. It’s not the fastest option—that would be the KTX—but it’s the cheapest and Jongin forced himself to make some economical savings after shelling more money than advisable to Yixing after purchasing his tickets off of him. Despite the longer travel time, the ride there is nice. It’s late morning, so the subway is bustling with people, but they fortunately snag a suit for the two of them. As soon as they sit down, Jongin reaches out for Kyungsoo’s hand, and for the rest of the train ride, they stay entwined.

After nearly an hour, they arrive at Suwon Station. Jongin gets them a little lost navigating out of the station ( _“Didn’t we pass by that Lotte already?” Kyungsoo asks at one point._ ) but eventually they make their way onto the streets.

“Where are we heading first?” Kyungsoo tugs lightly at Jongin’s hand. There’s a flush high on his cheeks and his eyes are bright. It’s tempting to swoop in for another kiss, but Jongin doesn’t want to scandalize the people on the street with more public affection. 

“We’re going for brunch,” he answers. The other boy looks eager, in the quiet way where he bites down on his lip to stop from smiling but can’t stop his eyes from crinkling in the corners from happiness. They’ll be eating at a cafe that Yixing’s girlfriend recommended, but Jongin’s never been there. He briefly disentangles their hands to check Naver to make sure he’s going in the right direction, before taking Kyungsoo’s hand again and leading them down the next street. 

It takes a few more twists and turns down small side roads before Jongin comes to a stop before a tiny, nondescript cafe. Despite its small size, it has large windows facing the street swathed with warm, cream curtains that have been tied open to let in the sunlight. The sign in front of the door, slightly hidden behind a clunky air conditioning unit left outside, reads _Rafrance_.

A bell jingles overhead when Jongin pushes in the door, leading him and Kyungsoo inside. The interior is minimalist, all swatches of white and light wood. There’s a hodgepodge of potted plants cluttered along the wall near the entrance, as well as an out-of-place bamboo stick. Propped up against the wall along the floor are a row of homemade paintings.

They seat themselves along the bar, in front of a shelf filled with glass jars of coffee beans and olive oil. It’s a quaint, mismatched cafe, but Jongin can tell from the look in Kyungsoo’s eyes that he’s charmed by its lackadaisical design. 

“It’s a Japanese-inspired cafe,” Jongin explains. Or at least that’s what Yixing had mentioned when he handed Jongin the tickets to the festival the night before.

Kyungsoo makes an affirming noise as he glances around the interior. It’s not quite busy yet, still a little too early on in the morning for it to be bustling. 

They order a curry rice dish and a simple breakfast dish with salad and tamago, with miso soup on the side. As customary for them, Jongin waits for Kyungsoo to sniff the ingredients before they dig in, and he fondly smiles as the other boy takes his time to inspect the dishes.

After they take a bite of their food, Kyungsoo exclaims happily, “I love Japanese cooking.” He looks pleased, his cheeks puffed as he shovels rice into his mouth. It’s the cutest thing Jongin has ever seen.

Relief rushes through him, and he lets out a small sigh, a smile toying at the corner of his mouth. “You like it?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo answers. He pauses to stir the soup with his chopsticks before taking a sip, letting out a loud _aahhh_ as it washes down hot. “This is lovely. Thank you, Jongin.”

The alpha swallows down a mouthful of curry rice. “I’m glad,” he says. “Yixing’s girlfriend recommended this place to me, so I wasn’t sure what to expect.” 

They take their time with eating—or at least Jongin attempts to. He usually scarfs down his food, a habit he picked up from trying to finish his meals as quickly as possible so he isn’t late for either practice or for class. But he knows Kyungsoo prefers to let the flavours linger and roll around his tongue. He’s not in any rush either, more than happy to bask in his presence like this. 

It’s just after noon when they finally finish their food and pay for the meal. When they stop out into the cool outside once more, a small hand nudges his and Jongin glances at the omega out of the corner of his eye. Kyungsoo’s gaze is trained firmly forward, but his tell-tale red ears give away his intentions. It makes Jongin want to swoon a little, the shy way Kyungsoo seeks affection and physical touch. Knowing that would probably not be appreciated by Kyungsoo, who, despite loving theatre and acting, isn’t into theatrics in his daily life, Jongin merely takes Kyungsoo’s hand in his again.

“Do you want to just walk around for a bit?” Jongin asks. The neighbourhood they’re in is cute and filled with small cafes and local boutique. They have some time to kill before they head to the festival. 

“That sounds nice,” Kyungsoo replies with a kind smile. 

They wander along the small roads, Kyungsoo indulgently looking through quaint boutiques with Jongin. For a moment, he worries that the omega is getting bored with his low interest in fashion, but he looks content to rifle through racks of clothing by Jongin’s side. At one point, Kyungsoo stumbles upon a kitchenware store and drags them both inside. He takes his time looking at the rows and rows of blades, even heaving some up and testing the weight and fit in his palm. 

(It makes Jongin a little nervous—the light glints off the knives dangerously—but Kyungsoo seems to be at ease.)

“Wooow,” Kyungsoo draws out. “Look, look, Jongin! You can inscribe these in-house with your name!” He waves the butcher knife in question around in excitement, which makes Jongin instinctively flinch back. The smaller boy has his little heart-shaped smile lighting up his face, and it’s horribly endearing that _knives_ bring him such joy. Even if Jongin doesn’t get it, not really.

The shop owner must have overheard them, or maybe he could make out the pure joy in Kyungsoo’s voice, because he wanders over towards them. He’s a stooped old man, wrinkles etched in his frail face and his gait a little uneven and slow. His hand shakes when he lifts up his palm, holding it out for Kyungsoo to place the knife in. Despite the confused face on his face, Kyungsoo politely places the knife into the outstretched palm with two hands and a small bow.

“This is a good one,” he croaks. Kyungsoo still looks a little confused, but the excitement hasn’t died down yet. “Would you like me to show you how sharp it is?”

For a moment, Jongin wants to refuse, worried about the _frailty_ of the old man, and he sees the concern reflected back in Kyungsoo’s eyes. Before either of them can say anything, however, the shop owner turns around and ambles slowly towards the back of the store. There, on a small, wooden table that has visible cuts and scars lining the top, rests a stack of papers. 

Without hesitation, the old man picks up the top sheet of paper—thin parchment made of rice, Jongin guesses—and immediately lifts up the knife and brings it down in a single, sharp motion. The parchment floats to the ground, cleaved neatly in two.

His jaw drops, honestly more impressed by the old man’s vigour than with the sharpness of the blade. 

“Oh my god,” Kyungsoo breathes out next to him. “The blade slices so well!” He sounds enthused, clearly interested in the strength of the knife and not the fact that an elderly man is expertly wielding a sharp blade in a small store.

When they emerge from the store, Kyungsoo is carrying a small bag at his side filled with an engraved butcher knife and a knife sharpener, and Jongin is a few hundred thousand won more broke.

“I can’t wait to make bone broth without struggling with our shitty knives,” Kyungsoo raves as they make their way towards the festival. He hugs the bag close to his chest, like it's a precious puppy and not a massive knife. "Thank you for buying it for me. You really didn't have to."

And it's true, he didn't have to. But then he saw the awe on Kyungsoo's face, and knew how cherished cooking is for the omega, and found himself reaching for his wallet without realizing it.

The other boy tried to protest at first. After all, it's not cheap. But the resulting shy smile, rosy cheeks, and fluttering eyelashes confirmed how Jongin instinctively felt: that it was worth it.

They take to the streets again, and Jongin hooks one hand over Kyungsoo’s narrow shoulders. The other boy inches closer at the weight, and together, they start walking towards the bus stop that would let them catch the bus to the festival. It takes them longer than it should have, if only because Kyungsoo spots a tiny poodle waiting patiently outside a convenience store and pauses to give it tons of scritches. While Jongin loves dogs just as much, having three dogs at home, he feels the urge to coo over the small omega even more so than the puppy. When they reach the bus stop, the omega asks what’s next on the itinerary, but Jongin only presses a kiss to his delightfully rosy cheek in response. 

It’s another hour of travel time before they finally arrive at the Gyeonggi Sangsang Campus, where the theatre festival is located this year. Already, the campus is filled with families, friends, and couples alike. Kyungsoo pauses next to him to take in the wide array of people milling around the campus. They stop in front of the pink gates, where there are volunteers handing out brochures and program guides, but most people are crowded in the forested area, which leads off to the different street performances taking place. In the distance, they can already hear what sounds like battle cries and the smattering of applauses.

“The Suwon Theatre Festival?” Kyungsoo asks, eyes wide as he looks up at Jongin from where he was perusing the schedule. He sounds excited, a shy smile taking on his face. Jongin nods. “How did you manage to get tickets? They’ve been sold out!”

The alpha scrubs a hand through his hair abashedly. “Um. Yixing sold his to me?”

At that, Kyungsoo narrows his eyes in suspicion. “Yixing? Is that why his girlfriend recommended that cafe? Was this supposed to be their date night?”

Jongin laughs, shrugging. “Maybe?”

Kyungsoo whacks him on the shoulder, but not too roughly. “Poor Yixing,” he says, nevertheless with a content look in his eyes, like he doesn’t mind after all. “We should pay him back.”

They wander through the wooded forests, pausing to watch the different performances. There are a few dance performances that they pause at, and a parkour-like piece that involves a large wooden stage and tall light poles that has Jongin cringing in anxiety as he watches the performers fling themselves around the set. At one point, they wind up soaking wet from a performance that decided to throw a bucket of water into the crowd—clean water, Jongin hopes. They get a few weird looks from other passerbys after that. 

The focus of the festival is to highlight public art and unconventional theatre, borrowing from the likes of Augusto Boal and Bertolt Brecht in engaging audience members into the performance pieces. It’s a little more avant-garde than what Kyungsoo usually acts in, and he grows flustered when one of the actors in the water-bucket-play involves him in a “street fight” argument, but he chatters away happily at Jongin about their acting techniques when they finally break away from the performances and towards the line of food booths further into the woods. 

Jongin can smell the food before they even see the booths, and even though they didn’t eat too long ago, he still finds his mouth watering as he takes in the rich aromas in the air. As expected, there are plenty street food classics, such as ricecakes, roasted yam, and _hotteok_. In line with the experimental nature of the performances, there are also booths boasting creative fusions and inventive packaging of different snacks as well, including garishly rainbow-coloured bagels stuffed with equally colourful Hokkaido cheese. 

“I want that,” Kyungsoo adds, pointing at a long line up for seared pork belly. Jongin immediately leads them to the lineup, and by the time he pays for two trays of five glazed in a light brown sauce and a side of kimchi, he’s feeling ravenous again. They polish them off quickly, Kyungsoo offering the last piece to Jongin before licking the sauce off his fingers. The sight of those candy pink lips wrapped around his digits sparks something hot in Jongin’s belly, and just— _god_.

After they finish eating, they find a clearing in the middle of the woods. The mossy forest floor is lined with candles—most likely artificial fire, so as to not set the whole forest on fire—in an intricate, weaving pattern of interlocking circles, spirals, with a large, lit-up star in the middle. It looks similar to a pentagram. Dusk has fallen, and the row of lights cast a warm glow as couples weave between the candles, walking hand in hand with one another. Jongin’s not entirely sure what the purpose of the candles are, but he has to admit that it makes for a beautiful candlelit walk under the stars.

The breeze is stronger now that night is falling, and they’re surrounded by trees. He feels Kyungsoo nestle closer, looping an arm around Jongin’s elbow. The heat from the omega burns through his thick coat, and he shivers pleasantly when he picks up Kyungsoo’s unique scent. 

“It’s getting cold,” Kyungsoo explains. Naturally, Jongin takes his hand in his.

“It is,” Jongin agrees. “Your hands are so cold,” he remarks. They’re not really—Kyungsoo is too close to his heat for his body temperature to run cold right now—but the omega doesn’t even try to correct him when Jongin surreptitiously uses it as an excuse to tuck Kyungsoo’s smaller hand into his coat pocket, fingers entangled. Even with the chill in the air, Jongin feels warm all over in the way the smaller boy burrows close into him. 

They walk until they clear the path, and they begin heading back to the bus stop in case they miss the last train. It takes a few buses before they find one with enough room for them to climb on, and by then, night has fully set. The train station is nearly empty when they arrive, and Kyungsoo drags them both to a bench at the more secluded, far end of the station as they wait for the Line 1 train back towards Seoul. 

“Did you have fun?” Jongin asks. He feels Kyungsoo shiver from the cold, and he wraps an arm around his waist and holds him tight.

“It was perfect,” Kyungsoo says. “Thank you, Jongin.” He turns his head, looking up at Jongin with fond eyes. Their faces are tantalizingly close together. This close, Jongin notices the way Kyungsoo’s long lashes flutter against his soft skin. His eyes drop down to his mouth, where the other boy is worrying at his bottom lip.

Jongin closes the distance between them.

Immediately, Kyungsoo melts into the kiss, his hands coming up to clutch at the lapels of Jongin’s coat as he angles his face to meet his lips better. He runs his tongue along the seam of his lips, and makes a soft noise when Jongin slides his tongue in. He tastes a bit like the soy sauce from the seared pork belly and green onion, but Jongin assumes he's not much different.

The alpha runs his hand down the side of Kyungsoo’s face, cupping his cheek as he deepens the kiss, before sliding it down to his thigh. His thighs is thick and meaty, filling out his grasp completely, and he squeezes. 

“Mmph,” Kyungsoo says, before twitching back from the kiss. For a moment, Jongin wonders if he went too far or did something he didn’t like, but then the omega pulls Jongin’s face back down to meet him. He bites down on Kyungsoo’s lip lightly, mouthing at his swollen bottom lip as he swallows the small whimper the omega makes. They lose track of time of how long they spend trading kisses before the next train comes, pulling apart only because they hear the telltale sound of the train approaching. A trail of spit connects their lips, and Kyungsoo blushes, averting his eyes, as he wipes his swollen, abused lips with the back of his hand. The sight of him dazed and breathless has Jongin’s pants tightening, but they’re still in public—even if they had both momentarily forgotten.

Kyungsoo averts his eyes but leans in closer until his lips graze the shell of Jongin’s ear. “Let’s continue this at home,” he whispers, sending a zing of heat down Jongin’s spine. When he pulls back, he’s darkly flushed and tugging Jongin towards the open train doors.

They board the train, hands entwined once more, and Jongin tries his best to ignore the scandalized looks of the few stray people who were waiting at the train station with them. He leads Kyungsoo to a seat tucked in the corner. Jongin keeps his hand high up on Kyungsoo’s thigh throughout the train ride, the warmth seeping through his thin pants layer. His mind runs over Kyungsoo’s words.

It was a perfect day, but he can’t wait to get home.

* * *

The door shuts close with a _snick_ behind them, and Jongin turns back around to bolt it properly. He can hear Kyungsoo shucking off his shoes behind him, further into their entryway, and neatly placing it on the shoe rack. 

Jongin can still feel the urgency he felt when they were at the train station earlier, the desire blossoming inside of him to be _with_ Kyungsoo. But the other boy had been calm, quiet on their way back to the apartment and he wants to check in with him. 

“Do you want t— _mmph_ —” Jongin doesn’t even finish him sentence when the omega turns around, his outer layers shed and placed neatly in the closet in the hallway, and pushes Jongin forcefully against the door. The door knob is digging uncomfortably into his lower back, but the intense look on Kyungsoo’s face has Jongin focusing on him instead.

“Kyungsoo?” Jongin asks. The smaller boy’s eyebrows are scrunched together adorably. His mouth is set in a pout, and it takes everything in Jongin to resist just kissing him right then and there. 

It turns out he doesn’t need to resist though. In the next moment, Kyungsoo draws himself onto his tip toes, hands tangled in the lapels of Jongin’s coat, and drags him down for a bruising, heated kiss. It’s languid, sweet as honey, but feverish too, Kyungsoo mouthing desperately into Jongin’s lips. Their teeth clack, and it’s a little painful, but Jongin doesn’t care. He sinks into the kiss, settling his hands on the small of Kyungsoo’s back in the little dip before the swell of his ass. The smaller boy makes a small noise at the touch and shifts closer until he’s pressed up against Jongin’s front. 

“Jongin,” he pants into his mouth. His lips are swollen and his eyes are half-lidded, pupils blown in desire. Immediately, Kyungsoo surges back into the kiss.

Without thinking about it, Jongin slides his hands down until they rest on Kyungsoo’s plump thighs, squeezing gently before he hooks his hands behind them and lifts the smaller boy up. The omega breaks the kiss to let out a moan, wrapping his shapely legs around Jongin’s waist. His hands fist Jongin’s hair as he leans down for a kiss, his hips twitching as he grinds against the alpha’s abdomen. He can feel the bulge through Kyungsoo’s jeans, but he’s not much better, his own arousal pressing insistently against the front of his pants.

“Bedroom,” Kyungsoo gasps, pulling at Jongin’s hair. The alpha gets with the plan immediately, blindly kicking off his shoes. For once, Kyungsoo doesn’t protest with his haphazardly discarding of shoes, but he’s too busy pressing a slick kiss to Jongin’s lips. Distracted, he almost trips over one of his shoes, stumbling slightly, earning an abrupt laugh from the omega.

He pauses once they’re in front of Kyungsoo’s door, unsure of whether they should go to his room or Jongin’s room. He quickly makes the decision when Kyungsoo pulls again at the patch of hair in his face and gasps out a needy _”hurry”_ , and fumbles one-handedly to open the door to Kyungsoo’s bedroom as he sucks a hickey into the pale skin of Kyungsoo’s neck, just next to his scent gland.

When he finally successfully deposits the omega onto his bed, Kyungsoo wastes no time before stripping down and tossing them into the closet. He lies down on his back, legs splayed wide for Jongin to see. His hair is mussed and his glasses are askew, but his beauty still has Jongin breathless. His mouth is dry, wordless, at the miles and miles of pale, creamy skin all laid out like a feast. All for Jongin. 

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo says. It’s almost a whine. “I need you.” He reaches his arms out, signalling for Jongin to join him. The alpha slowly approaches the bed, unzipping his pants as he goes. His eyes sweep over the omega’s figure, drinking in the sight desperately. His earthy scent is overpowering, and Jongin breathes it in, feeling almost drunk on how good Kyungsoo smells, how beautiful he looks. It feels almost surreal, that he has Kyungsoo here with him like this. Jongin wants to sear this memory into his brain forever, imprint them on the back of his eyelids.

Kyungsoo’s cock—cute, small, and rosy at the tip—is already hard against his soft belly, but it’s the sight of his chest that Jongin pauses at, zeroing in on his slight breasts as heat pools inside of him. When he’s not in preheat, they’re—flat. Now, with Kyungsoo so close to his heat, there are small mounds. Not much different from before, still easily hidden behind the bomber jacket he wore today, but there’s a slight rounding of his pecs. Just a perky swell with rosy pink nipples. They look swollen, and Jongin wonders if it would feel good if he were to touch them, or if it would be achey. 

“Jongin?” This time, Kyungsoo’s voice rises into a distinctly whiny category. His face is burning with embarrassment, probably at the lewd way Jongin is ogling him. But he doesn’t hide away. If anything, he lets his legs fall apart wider, exposing his dusky pink hole. Even in the dim light, Jongin can make out the slight sheen of slick between his thighs.

Jongin swallows, palming his erection. Finally, he joins Kyungsoo on the bed, seating himself on the foot. And maybe he gets sick of waiting for Jongin to do something, because the omega suddenly props himself up on his elbow, the other hand sliding down to stroke his cock. He lets out a wanton moan, one that has Jongin immediately shucking the rest of his clothes off and onto the floor. Kyungsoo keeps going, taking his hand of his cock and drifting down until he’s sliding through some of the slick and circling his rosy rim. He keeps his eyes trained on Jongin as he does this, plump and kiss-swollen bottom lip drawn between teeth.

That’s all it takes for Jongin to finally move.

“Fuck,” Jongin hisses, moving to seat himself between Kyungsoo’s splayed legs. His hands settle on Kyungsoo’s thighs, before roaming along his sides. He changes his mind and smooths them down Kyungsoo’s flank until it rests on the outside curve of his ass. Kyungsoo, impatient and needy, gets his feet under him and lifts his lower body off the bed, takes Jongin’s hands, and places them firmly on the globes of his ass. 

“Touch me,” Kyungsoo whines. 

Jongin doesn’t need to be told twice. He squeezes at the flesh, the round curve of his ass filling his palms perfectly. Kyungsoo lets out a moan, but it’s quickly swallowed up by Jongin who sinks down for another frenetic kiss. He lets out a hiss when their cocks grind against each other, the friction absolutely perfect. 

Breaking the kiss, Jongin zeroes in on the swell of Kyungsoo’s chest once more. “Can I...?” he asks, quietly, one hand shifting from its place on his ass and onto his sternum. He traces his fingers up until it’s on the underside of his chest, his touch whisper-light. The omega shudders, letting out a gasp, as he nods. 

Gently, Jongin trails his hand upwards until it’s pressed flat against Kyungsoo’s chest. The skin is hot under Jongin’s palm, and softer than he even imagined. There’s a small, soft swell that fits perfectly against his hand. He squeezes. 

“ _Oh!_ ” Kyungsoo gasps. Jongin’s cock throbs at the noise. 

“Sensitive?” he asks, massaging his chest lightly. Kyungsoo lets out another gasp at that, his nipples hardening at the touch. Jongin’s thumb traces soft circles into the skin. Kyungsoo’s nipples are hard and red now, stiff little peaks that he suddenly wants to get his mouth on. Kyungsoo nods. “Does it hurt?” The omega shakes his head.

He trails his fingers to Kyungsoo’s right nipple, and in wonder, presses down on the rosy nub.

“A-Ah!” Kyungsoo jolts, and Jongin immediately lets go, afraid he hurt him, but Kyungsoo’s back is bending in a delicious arch at the touch, almost as if he’s chasing after Jongin’s hand. If he were to reach between Kyungsoo’s thighs, he would see that the smaller boy just let out a gush of slick. “ _Fuck_ , that feels good, Jongin,” he gasps out.

He trails his finger back towards Kyungsoo’s nipple, this time pinching it lightly between his fingers. He rolls the peaked nub between his digits, savouring the breathy gasps that escapes from Kyungsoo’s lips. The omega lets out a shudder, hips shifting against Jongin where his cock is pressing insistently against Kyungsoo, smearing precum over his skin. 

“Your—your mouth,” Kyungsoo breathes. “You can use your mouth, if you want.”

His words bring Jongin to a halt as his brain processes what Kyungsoo said. Heat spikes through him, and he grinds his cock into Kyungsoo’s soft skin, unable to help himself. He moves down until his face is level with Kyungsoo’s chest, his thumb still toying with the reddened nubs. As if offering it to him, the omega arches his chest up, his stiff nipples peaked in invitation. Jongin presses a chaste kiss to the underside of his soft swells before claiming his prize, lips enclosing around the sensitive bud. Kyungsoo jerks, his hips rising to grind against Jongin, as he lets out a sharp cry at the sensation. His tongue circles the nub before he nibbles on it gently with his teeth. The desperate noises coming from the omega underneath him sends heat rushing through him, and he moans in response. With his hands, he alternates between toying with his other nipple and massaging the swell of his breast. 

He pulls off only to lave attention on the other neglected nipple. Kyungsoo lets out a whimper at Jongin’s ministrations, his hand practically shoving Jongin’s face closer to his chest as he deftly toys with his sensitive buds. The alpha wonders if Kyungsoo can come like this, untouched and with only Jongin paying attention to his chest, all swollen and sensitive and slick from Jongin’s tongue. His moans peter out into small, quickened gasps, his breath coming out in pants. His sweet noises affect Jongin just as much, and he grinds helplessly onto Kyungsoo. 

When the sensations start to get to be too much, Kyungsoo whines and pulls at Jongin’s hair until he pulls off. The alpha’s hands knead his chest, a reverent touch that has Kyungsoo breathing out a shaky sigh. Kyungsoo lies back down on the bed, already looking fucked-out. His lips are bitten red, and his glasses were knocked askew at some point and now lie on the pillow beside him. His chest is shiny with spit and his nipples are red. They look swollen, an observation that has Jongin wanting to pop a knot right then and there.

“Can you fuck me?” Kyungsoo asks brazenly. His boldness makes Jongin groan, one hand lifting off from Kyungsoo’s swollen chest to form a ring around the base of his dick, right where his knot would form. The alpha can only nod, breath caught in his throat as he rakes his eyes over the omega’s beautiful form. He sweeps back in for an open-mouthed kiss, trailing his hands down Kyungsoo’s side before grabbing onto the globes of his ass and kneading. The smaller boy mewls into the kiss, arching into the touch. 

“I love you,” Jongin whispers into Kyungsoo’s mouth. Even as intimate as they are right now, his words still cause a new wave of bashfulness to pass through the omega, and his cheeks dust with a rosy red as his swollen lips quirk into a small smile. 

“I love you too,” Kyungsoo whispers back. His smile widens. “Now fuck me before my heat hits, _alpha_.”

Jongin lets out a hiss at his words, running his fingers over Kyungsoo’s perked nipples again. He listens to the catch in the omega’s breath before trailing his fingers back down his body. His hands graze over Kyungsoo’s smooth legs, sliding his palms over his thighs. The smaller boy hitches his hips up, his pretty cock bouncing against his soft tummy from the movement. But what catches the alpha’s attention is the slick that coats his thighs, visible even in the dimmed lighting.

“ _Fuck_ , Kyungsoo,” he whispers, in awe. He trails a finger through the slick on his thighs, feeling the soft skin tremble underneath his touch. “You’re soaked already.” Kyungsoo lets out a whine in response, hitching his hips higher once more into Jongin’s gentle touch. 

“C’mon, Jongin,” Kyungsoo complains, and then Jongin has to grasp at his own cock, the tip red and angry from how aroused he is, when Kyungsoo suddenly tugs his knees up with trembling hands. His rosy rim, glistening with slick, is exposed to his gaze and he hikes his left leg over Jongin’s shoulder. The sweet scent of slick hits Jongin a second later, and he groans. Letting his hands slip towards Kyungsoo’s perfectly round ass, he presses a chaste kiss to his calf. 

Breathing in Kyungsoo’s unique omega scent, Jongin splays his cheeks apart with his thumb and ring finger. “I love you,” Jongin whispers again, before rubbing his finger over Kyungsoo’s hole. The omega lets out a gasp when he circles his middle finger around his soaked entrance, wriggling his hips against the finger as if he’s trying to press down against the pressure. He hasn’t even pressed in yet, but he can feel slick rolling past his finger, making the mess on his thighs even more prominent. 

When Jongin finally presses in, he watches, raptured, as Kyungsoo’s eyes flutter shut and his mouth falls open in a long, drawn out moan. He thrusts his digit in slowly, feeling his walls clamp down on his finger in a vice grip, before pulling back out.

A bead of sweat rolls down the side of Jongin’s face, and he feels flustered with how ethereal his lover looks like this—hair cutely tousled and fanned out on the bed, face flushed prettily, legs splayed. “Another finger,” Kyungsoo gasps out. 

Jongin obeys, pressing in with two fingers this time. At the sudden fullness, Kyungsoo lets out another gasp. “Ah! Yes, _oh_ ,” Kyungsoo cries out, tipping his hips higher. The sound he makes is _heavenly_ , and despite being so wet, he’s still tight. Jongin takes the time to scissor his fingers before plunging back in with three fingers. He stretches his fingers wide, pumping them slowly in Kyungsoo’s ass as the omega moans openly, begging for more. 

“Feels good, Jongin,” the omega whimpers, his hole clenching around Jongin’s fingers. The slide is smooth now, and as much as Jongin’s cock is aching from how badly he wants to sheathe himself inside Kyungsoo’s tight, wet heat, he doesn’t want to hurt him. He continues to work him open with his fingers, marveling at the way the omega twists his body to meet his thrusts. Sliding in a fourth finger, Kyungsoo lets out a high pitched moan at the stretch as he presses down greedily on Jongin’s hands.

“Want you,” Kyungsoo gasps, and Jongin can’t help himself anymore. Finally, he pulls his fingers out and the sudden emptiness has Kyungsoo letting out another cry. His fingers are glistening from Kyungsoo’s slick, shiny and clear. Without thinking about it, Jongin sucks his digits into his mouth, eyes almost rolling from how heavenly Kyungsoo tastes. Underneath him, the omega shudders and lets out a keening moan at the sight of Jongin laving his tongue over his fingers. 

Shuffling back an inch on the bed to give them enough room, Jongin finally, _finally_ grasps onto his cock. He gives himself a quick two pumps before positioning the tip of his cock against Kyungsoo’s hole, muffling his groan when more slick spills out from his entrance. “Are you ready?” he asks, already breathless. The omega nods shyly. 

Biting down on his bottom lip, Jongin tightens one hand around the back of Kyungsoo’s plump thighs as he presses the top of his cock in. He watches in awe as it slowly opens up for him. The tight, soaking wet heat of his hole is nearly unbearable with how good it feels, his hot walls pressing down on all sides around his cock. His head spins from the sensation, and he has to pause halfway in to catch his breath. Already, he can feel his knot forming at the base of his cock. 

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo pants, his fingers scrabbling along his bedsheets. “More.” Gritting his teeth, Jongin continues to push in until he’s bottomed out, Kyungsoo’s body slowly accommodating the girth of his cock. The omega lets out another noise, shifting slightly when he feels the bulge of Jongin’s half-formed knot rests against his entrance. The movement has Jongin letting out a cry, the muscles in his abdomen clenching as he struggles to stay still to allow for the omega to adjust to the size of his cock. Kyungsoo feels so good like this, Jongin wishes he could stay like this forever, sheathed in his tight, slick heat. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grits out, grinding his hips slowly. He runs his hand along Kyungsoo’s leg, smoothing it down the side of his body. Kyungsoo lets out a loud moan, eyes closed and mouth open, as he clenches almost uncontrollably over Jongin’s cock. A deep blush forms all over his body as he squirms on Jongin’s cock.

“Aaah, mm, move, _please_ ,” Kyungsoo whimpers. “I need you, Jongin. You feel so good inside of me. I’ve wanted this for _so_ long, _ah_ —” his voice breaks off into a high pitched moan when Jongin starts to move. Carefully grabbing onto his rounded hips, he slowly pulls back out until the tip of his cock rests against Kyungsoo’s slick rim, before slamming back in. Kyungsoo lets out a scream as the alpha pounds into him at a brutal pace, pushing back desperately to move his movements.

It’s a heady rush of movement, sweat pouring from their bodies as Jongin pounds into him obscenely. His entrance is soaked and sloppy now, and each thrust leaves a squelching noise as Kyungsoo fucks his hips down. 

“Jongin, Jongin, _ah_ , Jongin!” Kyungsoo screams, scrambling to grab onto his arms as Jongin thrusts into him. His knot is forming now, catching on his entrance with every thrust. Kyungsoo’s eyes are glazed over in bliss, tears gathering in the corner as his mouth falls open helplessly. His screams get louder when Jongin presses his knees against his chest, the alpha’s mouth finding his scent gland. He mouths against the spot, and Kyungsoo tilts his head back to expose his neck, letting Jongin lick over the spot as his nails drag over the skin of his arms. 

The change in position has his cock sinking in deeper, hitting the omega’s sweet spot with every thrust. Kyungsoo’s voice is getting hoarse now from his desperate, needy cries. His hot, wet hole clenches down on Jongin’s cock.

“Alpha, _alpha_!” Kyungsoo manages to gasp. His eyes roll to the back of his head, drool running down his chin as he meets every thrust. Jongin lets out a groan, bucking his hips harder at the tight heat. He doesn’t feel in control of his body anymore, as everything falls away from him but the heat clamped around him, the feeling of his thick cock splitting Kyungsoo’s hole open, knot rubbing insistently at his entrance, the sweet, desperate cries falling from the omega’s lips as sweet pleasure rocks through his body.

He reaches down to pinch at Kyungsoo’s nipples again, the nubs red and swollen from his earlier attention on him. Twisting them gently between his fingers, Kyungsoo’s hips jerk at the teasing touch. The omega cries, pushing his chest up to give Jongin better access.

It’s almost a surprise when he comes, seeing stars behind his eyelids as he rocks deeply into Kyungsoo’s greedy hole, with one hand thumbing the swell of Kyungsoo’s cute, swollen chest as the omega slams his hips down on him. He lets out a curse, his knot fully swelling, and on the next thrust, it pushes past the tight ring of muscle, locking him in. 

The sudden stretch around his rim has Kyungsoo crying out, tears leaking down his blissed out face. “Jongin-ah! Jongin, Jongin, J-Jongin, ah, _oh_ , alpha, feels so good, so full, ah, you— _ah!_ ” the omega babbles, squirming on Jongin’s knot as his moans hit a fever pitch, desperating leaking in his voice as he chases after his own pleasure. 

With his cum still spilling in pulsating waves, Jongin leans down again, this time closing his lips over one of Jongin’s nipples. He sucks on it gently as he moves his hand down to stroke Kyungsoo’s cock, now all bright and pretty and red from neglect, and with a hoarse scream, Kyungsoo spills all over his fist. His whole body shuddered, hole clinging onto Jongin’s knot, slick dribbling around it as the thick alpha cock inside of him presses flush against his sweet spot. 

“Jongin!” Kyungsoo cries as he comes. Suddenly boneless, Jongin slumps against the omega who lets out a muffled gasp as his knot tugs against his entrance from the sudden movement. They catch their breath, chests rising and falling in tandem. The omega lets out a hiss when Jongin accidentally rubs against his sensitive chest, clenching around his knot once more.

When Jongin regains some of his energy again, he carefully maneuvers them around so that Kyungsoo is lying on top of him. The omega lets out a sleepy mumble of thanks, exhausted from the sex. It’s an amazing sensation, being tied together with Kyungsoo like this. He’s glad their first time together was before the heat would hit them both and addle their mind. 

“How are you feeling?” Jongin asks once he catches his breath. On top of him, Kyungsoo just nods happily in lieu of answering as he cuddles up close to the alpha. There’s a sleepy smile on his face as he stretches up to press a kiss against Jongin’s lips. The alpha kisses back, and they stay like that for a few moments, trading sweet, syrupy kisses until the smaller boy’s eyes start to droop. “You should sleep,” Jongin whispers, nuzzling the top of his head. “We’ll be tied together for awhile longer.” As if a reminder from his words, his cock lets out another spurt of come, dragging a lazy moan from Kyungsoo. 

The omega wiggles his hips once more, getting as comfortable as he can while tied together. He nods again. Kyungsoo has dried tear tracks on his face, and Jongin gently thumbs away the marks. The sight of the omega resting peacefully on top of him has his heart feeling unbearably full and warm. “I love you,” Jongin says.

“I love you too, Jongin.” Kyungsoo presses a kiss against his scent gland, drawing a shiver from the alpha. Cozy and draped over each other, warm from the love they feel for each other, they fall asleep.

* * *

It’s two days later, just as Kyungsoo had predicted, when his heat fully hits him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed this chapter! next chapter will be filled with smut and fun :) a whole heat cycle to get through! please feel free leave a comment on any thoughts and comments, i deeply cherish every feedback i get ♥
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/sooblushes) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/sooblushes)

**Author's Note:**

> bonus points if you can guess who kyungsoo's friend is! i left a hint earlier...
> 
> please leave comments either here or in my cc! i'd love to know your thoughts! 
> 
>  
> 
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